the peace of wild things
by fullmetalgrigori
Summary: Maka Albarn, the last remaining her of her avian people, must accept a pair bond with Soul Evans, an serpent shifter, if there is to be any hope of peace between their two warring peoples. The two begin to learn that the other is not their enemy, and that they may find friendship and even love with the other, despite the forces determined to prevent peace at any cost. Hawksong AU
1. Prologue

_When despair for the world grows in me  
and I wake in the night at the least sound  
in fear of what my life and my children's lives may be,  
I go and lie down where the wood drake  
rests in his beauty on the water, and the great heron feeds.  
I come into the peace of wild things  
who do not tax their lives with forethought  
of grief. I come into the presence of still water.  
And I feel above me the day-blind stars  
waiting with their light. For a time  
I rest in the grace of the world, and am free._

 _\- The Peace of Wild Things,_ by Wendell Berry

* * *

 _Legend tells of a woman who looked to the sky and longed to dance among the clouds, who taught herself the language of the birds and for her study, was gifted with their form. I have a soft spot for the tale, but no record of this woman exists, though I've tried hard to find her. The only legacy she leaves us are the feathers braided through my hair, and the hawksong I sing as I glide through the air using the form she has bestowed my kind._

 _When I first found the story, tucked in the middle of a book of fables, I thought it too fanciful to belong to our people. I have been raised to know nothing save for war and bloodshed. A tale so hopeful seemed unbelievable, but I wondered - did our people dream like this once? Did we look to the skies and wonder, or is this war all we have ever fathomed?_

 _For generations, we have been taught of the serpiente, a lying, violent race hell-bent on our destruction. We learn to hate them and to fear them, and we train to fight them. And yet, the reason behind the fighting has long been lost._

 _I tried, once, to uncover the origin of our war. I dug deep in the archives our people have kept ever since our inception, and yet the story is nowhere to be found in living memory or long-dead record. We fight, but we do not know why we fight._

 _It is all we know. All I know._

 _Is this to be my legacy? Yet another Tuuli Thea who leads her people into battle, and yet does not know why? Is blood and pain the only thing to be gifted from my hands?_

 _Our lullabies sing of peace, and yet we do not know it. Am I the only one to have ever heard those words and longed for their promise? It is something that my mother has never known, and at times, I wonder if she has ever wished for it as I do._

 _Does she look upon our dead and rage inside? Or am I the only one to watch our ever-dwindling numbers and wonder if there is a better way? All this pain and anguish, and what have we to show for it?_

 _Nothing._

 _We will fight and fight and fight; we will fight until we win a war that we've already lost._

 _How long until even I, who dreams of another path, am lost?_

 _Maka Albarn_

 _Heir to the Tuuli Thea_


	2. Chapter One

Maka had walked the killing fields for years after battle, and yet still the screams and moans of the dying shook her very bones.

Blood spattered the sticky mud underfoot, hot avian blending with cool serpiente. The stench of burnt feathers clung to Maka's mouth, refusing to be ignored to matter how many times she swallowed. The embers of a fallen lantern smoldered on a patch of nearby grass, the damp air from the previous night's rain keeping it neatly contained. Thick gouges of mud stuck in odd angles from the ground, telling the story of that early dawn battle.

From her left, a strangled cry echoed in the still dawn air. Maka took a deep, bracing breath, then moved toward the forest, her steps silent in the soft, sticky mud.

Her knees nearly buckled as she broke through the treeline. Her breath caught in her throat, escaping only as a faint cry of alarm.

Harvar Eclair lay sprawled in the crook of a thick bed of gnarled tree roots, one bloody hand grasping at one knot like he might still pull himself to standing. The empty glaze of his eyes pointed upward in one last beseeching look to the sky, their people's haven. The stormy gray clouds above stared back indifferently.

Here, now, was another of her Royal Flight gone. Another soldier, another member of her avian people, another… friend.

A vivid memory forced itself to the forefront of Maka's mind: Harvar, teaching Maka to play three-man slip, a card game he'd learned from his mother growing up. Maka had been terrible at first, losing every round, but Harvar in his endless patience had sat with her for nearly an hour until she'd won her first trick. The corners of his mouth had curled up, and even though his voice had been as steady as ever, she knew the smile for what it was.

A smile that she would never have another chance to earn. Maka slammed her eyes shut, tried to erase his death-mask from her memory, but it was no use. No longer could she see the loyal, steadfast young man who'd joined her guard nearly three years ago. All that remained was another victim in this endless, winding war.

Tension locked her jaw and boiled in her chest, begging her for a scream, a wail, any kind of release. But a hawk did not cry. She did not scream, she did not openly grieve the dead. It was a disgrace to their memory.

So Maka reeled in every last drop of emotion, every last tear, and locked it away in a steel box stored in the recesses of her mind. She could not help the heavy breath that escaped her lips, but managed to disguise it as a sigh of sorts as footsteps approached behind her.

"Take him back home," Maka ordered, her voice shaky despite her efforts. "And someone should let Ox know."

"You should come back with us when they take him." Black*Star, the captain of the most elite flight in the avian forces, stepped up to her side. Maka stole a sideways glance at him and noted the shine to his eyes and the tightness of his jaw. Harvar's death, at least, did not leave either of them entirely unaffected.

He cleared his throat, and when he spoke next, his voice was steadier. "We're almost through clearing out our soldiers. It's time to go home."

Before Maka could answer, another death-cry slipped between the nearby trees. She stepped away from the cluster of tree roots and towards the sound, but Black*Star caught her elbow. "Not that one, Albarn."

A flare of irritation had her pulling away. She had trained with Black*Star for years, had gone toe-to-toe with him on the mat, and yet still he tried to keep her from the worst of the killing, as though sparing her the sight would make the knowledge of what had happened here any easier. "Really, Black*Star?"

He stepped back hastily as she pushed past him, and though he tried to protest, Maka was too far away by the time he reached out again. "Maka, wait-"

But his warning came too late. Maka froze in her tracks as the body of the dying soldier came into view behind a thick oak. The strangled grimace of pain registered first - another of the fallen slowly slipping away. Then other details began to trickle in: white hair, like a shock of snow across the ground, a gold signet ring, and finally, piercing red eyes that, when locked into Maka's, brought an uncharacteristic wobble to her knees.

This wasn't just any soldier. This was Wes Evans, newly enthroned Diente of the serpiente people, lying on the ground in front of her.

She ought to be furious, she thought idly. The sight of Wes Evans should have whipped her into a boiling rage… but she only emotion that pulled at her in any way was exhaustion.

Her recognition seemed to be reciprocated, for as soon as Wes saw her, his throat fluttered as his cries cut off.

Maka's feet took a few tentative steps forward before she gave them the order to, and though there was a flurry of frightened activity from her guards, no one else dared to come closer to the serpiente heir.

No one, save for Maka.

At first glance, it was difficult to tell what injury caused him the most pain. Aside from an awkwardly angled limb, he seemed to be mostly intact.

 _Could it be a trap?_ whispered a cautious voice in the back of her mind. Strategically place a high-value target, apparently dying after battle, then lie in wait to see who comes looking. It wasn't a bad idea, truthfully.

But no, her Royal Flight was too well-trained to miss anyone lurking in the underbrush. If anyone was waiting in ambush, her guards would have found them well before now.

If, then, this scene was exactly as it looked, and Wes Evans was merely suffering from, while painful, entirely treatable wounds… there was only one logical step her people could take. A living serpiente soldier was a threat to her people. That was what Maka had been taught practically since birth.

She could almost see it play out in her mind: she would turn her back, walk away, and her guards would finish what the avian soldiers on that morning's battlefield could not.

Saw it, and set it aside.

Maka slid gently to her knees as she peered into the face of her enemy. His eyes fluttered open, those unnaturally red irises filled not with hate, but only pain, terror, and bone-aching despair. Though Maka was certain that Wes was older than she, he looked desperately, painfully young.

Maka's throat swelled. Was Wes responsible for how they'd found Harvar not a few dozen yards away? Was Harvar responsible for this?

Whatever the answers to those questions, Maka couldn't find it within herself to care. Serpiente lives were lesser, to kill a serpiente was a glorious act…

Maka could find no glory here. Could find no hatred, no anger.

Her head dropped as she exhaled shakily, and then she saw it: a deep, jagged knife wound in Wes' gut, slowly oozing blood with each ragged inhale he managed. It was an ugly, brutal wound, and it was certainly a fatal one.

Had Harvar looked like this as he had died? Had his last thoughts been so consumed by pain and suffering?

Maka's breath choked in her throat. She whirled on Black*Star, the only one of her guard who dared come this close. "Are you happy now?" she hissed, tears stinging her eyes. "He's in pain, and dying, and all you ever feel is _hate_."

She knew she would pay later for the comment, for exposing herself so thoroughly, but Maka couldn't find the energy to care. "If I were here, I'd want someone to stay with me. Until the end."

A shadow passed over Black*Star's face, but he said nothing, only kneeled by Maka's side. He made no other movement, but the gesture meant enough to Maka.

She reached out slowly, making sure not to spook Wes, and brushed hair sticky with sweat and mud out of his face. "It's alright," she soothed. "No one's going to hurt you anymore. You're safe with me."

Tears spilled from his lids, drawing clear tracks down his dirt-stained face. "Thank you," he wheezed, each word a monumental effort. His watery gaze locked onto Maka's as he said, "Kill me. _Please_."

Maka flinched horribly, but kept her hand on his forehead. Guilt overwhelmed her - hadn't she been thinking the exact same thing mere moments before? But hearing the plea in his voice, knowing how much pain he was in… still, it was difficult to imagine doing so.

 _It's easy to train to take a life_ , she thought. But no one could prepare for the very grim reality of it.

Wes' hand scrabbled for hers and grasped it tightly, as though sensing her hesitation. Maka's free hand drifted to her waist, where a plain hunting knife hung from her belt.

Black*Star's hand locked onto her own just as she wrapped her fingers around the hilt. He shook his head.

"He could be here for hours," Maka hissed, turning her head away.

"If you put a knife in him," he warned, "the serpiente aren't going to see it as a mercy killing, no matter how close to death he is."

They battled silently for a moment before Maka acceded. She drew her hand away but remained where she was, her fingers rubbing gently across Wes'. His rattled breathing filled the air around them, almost deafening in its harshness.

Maka and Black*Star sat with Wes for hours, even as the overhead sun burned away the morning dew and the birds in the forest finally felt safe enough to sing their songs once more. Wes' grip slackened and his breathing grew more ragged, but still Maka remained.

To cover up the sound of his suffering, and to distract him from the pain, Maka sang. It started as humming at first, then slowly grew into a melody her father Spirit had used to sing to her as a child. Maka remembered all too well the nights when her mother was too preoccupied with the duties of Tuuli Thea (which far outnumbered that nights that she wasn't), and her father would coax her underneath the blankets with the promise of a song. Maka would screw her eyes shut and picture soaring high above the clouds as Spirit's voice wove through the air.

Oh, what she would trade for just one more of those nights, when her only thoughts were of what new tome she might discover in the library, or whether she might finally be able to pin Black*Star in sparring the next day. Before her life was measured in loved ones lost, with no one to tell her why.

By the time Wes' hand went slack and his breathing still, Maka's throat was tight from singing and unshed tears. Her voice slowly faded, leaving behind an unnatural silence. She regarded Wes for a moment, taking in his wide, vacant stare. In avian culture, it was customary to to leave the eyes open after death, so that they might still see the skies that granted them so much freedom. However, Maka thought she remembered a passage she'd found once in a book long ago, of how the serpiente preferred to close the eyes of their dead, so that they would appear to be merely sleeping.

Maka hesitated briefly, then reached out, ignoring Black*Star's intake of breath as she gently shut Wes' eyelids.

She stood, and after waiting for Black*Star to do the same, followed him away from the battlefield and back to the Keep, where life would continue despite the heavy events of that morning.

She didn't look back.

* * *

Kami Albarn, Tuuli Thea of the avian people, was motionless as the funeral pyres burned before her. The wind that whipped through the mountain valleys surrounding Mourner's Rock carried away the ashes that remained, taking those they'd lost to their final resting place among the skies.

Meanwhile, those that survived could only watch, emotionless, and carry on.

When the last spark died, Kami turned to her daughter, eyes clear and voice steady. "I don't want you going out after battle again," she ordered. "You'll be queen in less than a month, but you won't get the chance if the serpiente manage to kill you before then."

"Mother-"

"This isn't a discussion, Maka," her mother said sharply. "Your people need you."

Maka recognized a lost battle when she saw one. "Yes, Mother."

Her mother had never understood Maka's approach to leadership - to her, a queen was separate from her people, leading from afar, keeping a regal distance while her soldiers carried out her will. It was a style Maka knew she could never adopt.

How could she send her people into battle if she was not willing to do the same? How could she ask her people to follow her if she never looked them in the eye when she did?

They had butted heads for years over this issue, neither willing to back down. However, Maka kept quiet this time, knowing better than to try pushing now.

Kami left not long after, shifting into her elegant hawk's form and taking to the skies, leaving Maka to stare past the cliff's edge. She stood alone, watching her mother sail among the wind currents, a half dozen ravens and crows following after.

Maka swallowed hard, again and again, forcing every emotion down deeper and deeper, until she felt she could face her people with the calm and composure they expected from her. Even as she prepared to leave, a single blue jay rose from the cliffs to her right and circled once, watching her as he'd been trained his whole life to do.

With nothing left to keep Maka there, she exchanged her human body for a feathered one. Letting out a shriek of pain, fury, and release, she shot into the sky, the rushing wind wiping away everything, leaving only the empty oblivion of the sky.

* * *

The sun had long since sunk below the horizon when Maka returned to the Hawk's Keep, which housed the remaining of the royal family, the Royal Flight, and several high-ranking avian families. The top floors were reserved for Maka and her mother, though Maka usually spent as little time there as possible. Based on the conversation they'd had earlier, however, it sounded like she was about to become much more familiar with its interior.

Fifteen feet below the first floor lay a sprawl of courtyards and training grounds, which were currently occupied with the last of that day's market. Some merchants were finishing packing away their wares, while still others lingered to gossip while there were less prying ears present.

Market days were an opportunity for local artisans and merchants to do business with the common people and for the Tuuli Thea and her heir to hear grievances, if any existed - though that had become less and less common as her mother threw herself further and further into discussions of the war.

The years of fighting had stifled the more creative, artistic side of avian society, though Maka had done her best to encourage vendors to continue attending and displaying their goods. At times, it felt like market was the one remaining place to escape from the reality of the war.

And yet still, war found its way in. Physical goods were not the only thing traded at market - rumors and gossip were passed along as readily as the wares on display. One could hardly make their way through without hearing whispers of what the serpiente might be planning or what horrors they were capable of.

Maka shifted to her hawk form and glided down into the emptying courtyard, hoping to at least make a brief appearance before turning in for the night. Her people would want to see their leader after that morning's battle, though Maka doubted her mother had visited - she would have to do.

They greeted her warmly, some only saying hello, some seeking reassurance after such a hard-fought battle. The grieving, and yet still steady-faced, mentioned those they had lost, hoping for an acknowledgment that the life of their loved one had not been given in vain. Maka gave the rote responses her mother had trained her in, ignoring the bitter taste they left on her tongue.

"Maka?" A lighter voice cut through the chatter, and Maka turned to find a familiar face behind her. Maka had known Blair since she'd been a young child, eagerly exploring the market. The young dressmaker had taken it upon herself to become Maka's guide, and had always made a point to say hello whenever Maka stopped by. Though she was more exuberant and open than avian propriety dictated, her conversation was refreshing in a way that Maka had rarely found elsewhere.

Maka greeted her with a wide smile. "Blair! I didn't expect you to be here today."

"I finally got a permit to sell here." Blair beamed. "I was running the shops' stall." She pointed to a half-assembled vendor's table not far away. When she turned back, her expression was somber. "I heard about what happened this morning. What you did for Wes Evans."

The pleasant expression slid off Maka's face. How had Blair heard? She'd thought they'd been alone. Well, it didn't matter - the damage was done. The only thing to do now was to figure out how to handle the fallout. "Blair, I-"

Blair shook her head. "No, I only wanted to - when I heard, I felt this… hope, I suppose is the right word. That maybe there could be more to us than war. Someday." She offered a soft smile.

Maka tried to return it, but knew she wasn't entirely successful. "Thank you, Blair." She didn't say what she wanted to - that offering a dying man some measure of solace was a far cry from peace.

They bid farewell. Black*Star, sensing Maka's exhaustion, moved closer to her side, unconsciously dissuading anyone else from approaching. They flew to the upper levels of the Keep where they separated: Black*Star to the Royal Flight quarters, Maka farther up to her own rooms.

As she prepared for bed, she sent a silent prayer to the skies that she might find a way to prevent a morning like the previous from ever happening again, yet feeling hopelessly like it would forever go unanswered.

* * *

Maka dreamt of fire and blood.

Her breath came in spurts, her chest burning in terror and exertion. She had only wanted to help, and yet…

And yet.

The only light came from scattered fires burning across the fields, illuminating shadowy figures locked in battle. One caught sight of her and lunged - Maka tried to dodge, but it seized upon her arm-

"Maka!" Black*Star's voice cut through the haze of fear, and for a few moments, everything became clear. "Come on, we've got to go!"

It spoke to how shaken Maka was that she didn't argue at all, but only grasped the hand wrapped around her arm tightly and nodded.

She'd made a terrible mistake that night.

Black*Star led her through the fields, shielding her with his body, stopping and starting as needed to try and keep her out of sight. A cry of pain cut through the cacophony, startling Maka from her stupor. "That's-"

"Come on, Maka, let's go!"

But she had already slipped from his grasp. She ran full-tilt towards the sound, bile creeping up her throat in anticipation…

"No, Maka, _wait!_ "

The taste of blood in the air, the stench of death…

No. She didn't need to see this…

Not again-

Her throat tightened, just barely containing her screams.

"Maka, wake up!"

Her eyes flew open to find Black*Star standing over her, hand on the hilt strapped to his hip. His hair and clothes were disheveled - clearly her nightmare had pulled him from sleep as well.

"I'm alright," she said thickly, rubbing the grit from her eyes.

"Nightmare?" The look he gave said he knew exactly what she'd been dreaming about.

"It's fine," she insisted, and though Black*Star didn't look convinced, he let the matter drop.

"Well, since you're up," he said, moving his hand from his side, "We're about to starting training. Want to join?"

Maka pushed aside the blankets and swung her legs over the side, her head clearing at the prospect of sparring. "Want to get your ass kicked?"

Black*Star barked out a laugh. "Keep dreaming, Albarn."

It was quick work to dress in the light, flowing clothes favored by the Royal Flight during sparring sessions, and soon she was gliding downstairs to the training grounds below the Keep. Most of the Royal Flight was already gathered, some paired off to spar, others gathered around more experienced officers as they demonstrated different moves.

Maka passed them all and headed for Black*Star, who was bouncing eagerly on his feet and shaking out his arms in confident motions. "Last chance to back down," he taunted, tilting his head towards one of the groups learning from the head of her mother's guard, and coincidentally, Black*Star's adopted father. "I'm sure Sid wouldn't mind another student."

Maka stretched her arms out, shooting Black*Star a grin. She'd forgotten how good he was at chasing away the malaise of a nightmare. "You're trying awfully hard to get me to leave," she pointed out. "Sounds a little bit like you're scared."

"You wish," Black*Star said, then launched off the balls of his feet as he aimed a surprise jab at her jaw. Maka twirled to the right, accustomed as she was to his sudden starts. He claimed it was to teach her to anticipate an attack at any moment, but she knew he got some gleeful enjoyment out of catching his opponent off-guard.

After that, it was a simple matter of slipping into a skin she knew well, one she'd worked for years to hone. All avian heirs were trained in the art of self-defense, as all high-value targets should. Her mother, too, had trained with the guard in her years as heir, before she took the title of Tuuli Thea. She'd never seen her mother take to the sparring mats, but heard from some of the old guard about how formidable she could be. However, she'd given up the practice of regular training once she'd ascended the throne, and though her mother had never directly mentioned it, Maka knew she expected the same of her heir.

But Maka couldn't see herself giving this up. She even sometimes wished that she hadn't been born into this title, that she could be free to join the Royal Flight as a simple guard, that she was allowed the hours and days and years they were to develop her skills the way she wished to. Nothing thrilled her more than narrowly doding a well-thrown punch, or striking true against a worthy opponent. Black*Star, more than the other soldiers, seemed to understand this, and often volunteered as her training partner. While other guards might have felt pressured to hold back when fighting their future queen, Black*Star never had such qualms.

Even now, he moved with a quickness that was near impossible to match. Despite his muscular build, he'd never let himself slack off where agility and speed was concerned. It was how he'd heard his place as captain of the Royal Flight, after all.

Black*Star's story was not a novel one amongst avians, and yet he'd seized hold of it and molded it into something more. He'd been found as a babe on the brink of death near the outskirts of their lands, the only survivor of a serpiente slaughter. With no home or family to call his home, Sid, the captain of her mother's guard, and his partner Nygus had agreed to take him in. Black*Star had grown up with the guard, raised amongst the soldiers as though he'd never originated anywhere else. He and Maka had drifted together naturally, as he was the only child her age raised in the Keep.

As they'd grown older, he'd announced loudly his intention to head her guard. No one had ever said so to his face, but most had laughed to hear it. The Royal Flight consisted mainly of ravens and crows, as they had proven time and time again to be better scouts and aerial soldiers. Few other species had demonstrated what it took to join, and a blue jay had never been among the exceptions.

While most might have been discouraged by this, Black*Star had taken it as a challenge, one he rose quite admirably to meet. Two years ago, to almost everyone's surprise but no one's protest, Black*Star had been named captain of the Royal Flight. It was a position that, despite his loud and exuberant personality, he took quite seriously. While her mother disapproved of Maka training so hard, Black*Star instead encouraged it.

On days such as this, he would invite her to spar with the guard in order to keep up her skills and pick up new ones, though the latter had significantly decreased as the years had passed. Maka could best quite a few of her guard if she needed to, and had over time.

Black*Star, however, was still a challenging opponent.

He dropped into a crouch and spun, lashing one leg out in an attempt to catch hers and send her crashing to the ground. Maka, familiar with his tactics, jumped backwards, keeping light on the balls of her feet, and before Black*Star could straighten up, aimed a kick at the small of his back.

He huffed a small breath of air as she connected, but aside from a mild stutter-step, didn't yield. Twisting away, he caught her ankle firmly, holding her foot solidly against his chest to deny her any leverage.

But instead of using his advantage, something behind Maka caught his eye, and he stilled. Maka dropped her own fists as she noticed the somber look on his face. At her silent question, he murmured, "Ox is here."

A great swell of pity grew in Maka's chest. Ox was Harvar's partner in the guard - they'd been paired up for training when they'd both entered into the Royal Flight, and had been quite the team ever since. She hadn't seen Ox since Harvar's death yesterday, and braced herself for the meeting about to take place… if only Black*Star would disengage so she could.

She wiggled her toes against his chest and nudged him with her heel. "If I may…?"

Black*Star grinned and let go, dropping her leg to the ground. "Rematch later?" he asked quietly as she brushed the sweaty strands of hair out of her face.

"Of course," she replied, and after wiping her face off with her sleeve, turned to greet Ox.

Ox looked about as well as could be expected, which was to say, not well at all. His eyes had that glazed, dull look to them that Maka had seen all too many times before, and his skin carried a pallor that, if Maka didn't know better, would suggest an illness rather than the grief he was truly experiencing.

"Ox," she said, and though she wished to reach out and touch his arm, to provide any kind of comforting gesture, she knew it would be frowned upon. Her arms remained at her side. "Please accept my condolences for your loss."

Even as he struggled with his grief, Maka saw him take desperate hold of the raging emotion inside him and leash it, settling his expression into something more somber than devastated. It broke her heart to watch, but even she kept her feelings hidden, as was expected from the both of them. "Thank you, Maka," he said, his voice steady. "Harvar died in battle, so his life wasn't lost in vain."

 _Rather it hadn't been lost at all_ , Maka thought, but kept silent.

"I had considered this possibility before," Ox continued, his calmness almost eerie. "Given our positions in the guard, I knew there was a good chance one of us would not survive this war." He paused, swallowed. "I only ask what you're considering in retaliation, and hope that you may utilize my services in the future."

Retaliation? Maka could only stare at him blankly. They were still tallying the dead, counting their losses, and Ox wanted to retaliate? Though, she supposed she couldn't blame him for that. Retaliation was all this war boiled down to anyway. The serpiente attack, the avians take their revenge, the serpiente pay back in kind. And endless back and forth with no beginning or end.

That, she understood. Ox, taking in her confused look, elaborated on the second point. "I only mean… I've been studying the serpiente, you see. Trying to understand how they work, how they think, so we might plan attacks more optimally designed to reduce their numbers while maintaining our own. Did you know our life expectancies drop lower and lower with every six months that pass?"

She didn't know the numbers, but could imagine that scenario was very likely true.

Ox continued. "Please, just consider my offer. I want to end this war as badly as you do."

Yes, Maka supposed that was true as well. No one here enjoyed the realities of war, only bore it with an unrivaled stoicism. "Thank you for your offer," Maka said. "I will consider it and let you know if we do decide to consult you. In the meantime, my mother and I will discuss our options."

"What are we discussing?" Her mother's voice rang clearly through the crisp, cool air of the courtyard, cutting through the chatter of the guards around her. Everyone snapped to attention save for Maka, who only nodded to her mother in greeting.

"Ox here was only asking if we planned to retaliate for yesterday morning's attack. I was merely telling him that we would be discussing our options."

Kami nodded her approval. "And so we will. Come with me." She turned and swept out of the courtyard, not bothering to check if Maka was following.

With no time to acknowledge the other, save for a hurried wink from Black*Star, Maka hurried after. She wiped the slate of her mind clean, so that when she caught up with her mother, her face was utterly blank.

Kami was silent as they ascended the Keep. She ushered Maka into one of the many sitting rooms within her suite (soon to be Maka's, though she didn't dwell on it), then closed the door behind her. The distinct shift of leather and metal sounded after, telling them a guard had taken his place.

But instead of delving into battle plans and troop numbers, her mother merely regarded her for a brief moment. Something in Maka itched at the scrutiny, but she forced herself to keep still and quiet. Kami would speak her mind sooner or later.

Sooner, as it turned out. "Have you made a decision regarding your alistair?"

Maka blinked, her only outward sign of surprise. Her mother wanted to talk about this? Now?

Kami must still have been able to read her daughter, because she said, "Your crowning ceremony is fast approaching. The Tuuli Thea typically announces her alistair then, so it would be wise to have someone in mind before then." Kami paused. "I know you and Black*Star are close, and as he's the captain of your guard, he would be a sensible choice."

Maka knew this, and knew that others knew it. A consequence of her position, she supposed. Any and every close friendship was scrutinized, analyzed, turned over and over in consideration of the benefits and detriments. It made logical sense, really. Black*Star knew her better than anyone, and was steadfastly loyal. He would make a fine pair bond and alistair.

It would be even better if Maka felt anything more than a deep friendship for him.

She'd been preparing for this for years, knowing that she would have to pick an alistair that she likely did not love, and yet hearing of the looming reality was like a blow to the chest. In less than a month, Maka would have to pick someone to spend the rest of her life with. Someone to produce children with.

Realistically, she knew that the chances of finding a pair bond rooted in love were rare, and most were picked based on status or simple fondness. But even still, Maka had hoped deep down that she might prove the exception to the rule.

"I've been giving the matter some thought," she answered slowly, not quite looking her mother in the eye. "Considering my choices to try and find the ideal one."

Kami met her gaze not unsympathetically. "I know this choice is difficult. It will not be the only one you will have to make as Tuuli Thea. Just remember, you have been preparing for this. I would not hand down the title if I didn't think you were ready for it."

A lump grew in Maka's throat, one that took a few tries to dislodge. Despite their disagreements and her mother's crushing expectations, hearing those words from her was fortifying in a way few other things were. Still, it was almost impossible to imagine Kami without the weight of Tuuli Thea behind her, to picture where she would bow to Maka just as Maka bowed to her now.

How could she possibly take over this mantle her mother had carried for so long?

Maka opened her mouth - to say what, she didn't know - but before she could speak, a quick rap at the door interrupted them. "Enter!" Kami called.

Black*Star slipped inside, his guard's uniform back in place. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but there's someone here to see you both."

Maka looked to her mother, but Kami frowned. Clearly, she wasn't expecting anyone. "Who?"

Black*Star hesitated. The look on his face had Maka's gut twisting in anticipation. "It's Camille Evans. She's asking for an audience."

Even Kami had to work hard to school her shock. Camille Evans was the daughter of Ira Evans' first wife, and the half-sister of Wes and Soul Evans. Not a serpiente heir, but still royalty. That she had ventured into the heart of their territory… Maka couldn't fathom.

"You're sure?" Kami asked. "It's Camille?"

Black*Star stepped back, opening the door fully. "She's in the courtyard now. No weapons - only says that she has a message from her brother."

Soul - the last Evans left, and now the sole heir to the serpiente throne.

Maka and Kami shared a charged look, then followed Black*Star down through the winding corridors of the Keep. Anxiety curled deep in Maka's stomach, tightening every joint with every step she took. What message could Camille have for them? Coming so far, stepping right inside the Keep of all places… what message could possibly be so important that it had to be delivered in person?

They reached the main courtyard and sure enough, Camille Evans stood in the center in all her stately glory, looking calm despite the vast numbers of guards surrounding the perimeter. She was dressed in a simple black dress, her pale hair tied back and away from her aristocratic face. Her hand rested lightly on her belly, which was swollen with child.

The sight was a split-second, jolting reminder of the serpiente's humanity. They were so detached from their enemy, sometimes one forgot they did things as simple as carry children, just as avians did.

Though Kami was likely feeling the same blend of wariness and confusion as her daughter, she let none of it show as she asked, "Why are you here, Camille?"

"As I told your captain," Camille said softly, "I'm here to pass a message along from my half-brother, Soul, who is Diente now after the death of our brother."

"And that is?"

"Peace." Camille rubbed one hand in slow, steady circles across her stomach, whether as an unconscious gesture or to purposely remind them that she was pregnant and likely less of a threat, Maka couldn't tell. "We have fought for so long, and have both lost so much already. Is it not worth considering another way? To consider peace?"

"What do you propose?" Maka slid her mother a sideways look, but as always, there was nothing to be learned there.

"We've talked with the Mistari. They're willing to shelter representatives from both our peoples and mediate talks while we explore our options. If you are willing to consider this, we'll be there in three days time. That's all I've come to say."

Kami was silent for such a long time, Maka wondered if she was ever going to give Camille a response. "Your message has been received," she said finally. "We will think on your offer."

There was a flicker of… something on Camille's face, but it disappeared before Maka could catch it. "That's all we ask. If I may, I will take my leave to return to my people and prepare."

Kami nodded, and Camille was quickly escorted from the courtyard by an armed guard. For the second time that day, Kami abruptly left the courtyard, shifting into her hawk form to ascend into the keep. Maka hurried after, mind buzzing with everything she'd just heard. Her first instinct was to dismiss Camille's claims of wanting peace out of hand, but it had taken an extraordinary leap of faith for Camille to present herself, unarmed, into the Keep. And all she had asked for was a meeting with the Mistari Disa in neutral lands, where any kind of attack would be akin to suicide.

Kami didn't stop until they were back in her suite of rooms where they'd stood not fifteen minutes earlier. Maka almost wanted to laugh at how quickly things had changed.

"What do you think?" Kami asked, bracing her hands on the back of an armchair.

Maka started, unused to being asked for her opinion before her mother had given hers. Kami noticed the gesture and added, "You'll be Tuuli Thea soon, Maka. It's time you started taking the lead in matters like this."

Maka nodded, but didn't reply right away. She reviewed Camille's words again, examining them with a careful eye. "I don't know if they're genuine about wanting peace, especially considering the losses they incurred yesterday." She forcefully shut out the image of a dying Wes Evans. "But a meeting with the Mistari Disa is relatively low-risk. If nothing else, we might be able to glean something about what they're really thinking." She paused. "But if there's any chance at all that we could find a way to end the fighting, we have to take it."

Kami considered Maka's thoughts, nodding slowly. "I agree. I don't trust them, but in neutral lands, we don't lose anything by going." She straightened, a hard gleam in her eye. "Well then, we'd better start preparing. We leave in three days."


	3. Chapter Two

The following two days were filled with a buzz of activity as everyone scrambled to prepare for the upcoming trip. Time seemed to pass in a blur and a crawl all at once, filling Maka with both dread and anticipation. As morning dawned on the third day, Maka looked out over the distant mountain ranges and blew out a long breath. If she squinted, she could almost imagine the foreign Mistari lands pressed up against those very mountains, but knew that in reality, the Mistari territory was too far away for her keen eyes to glimpse, even from the very top of the Keep. Whatever lie in wait for them would remain a mystery.

Only five would be making the journey into the lands of the tiger shifters - Maka, Kami, Black*Star, and two additional guards from the Royal Flight. They'd sent ahead a caravan with supplies the day before with one of the Mistari's avian representatives, so it would only take a half day of hard flight led by the second liaison to reach the foreign territory. Despite Maka's love of flying, the hard pace and the uncertainty of what lay before her had the journey passing in an unremarkable blur.

The Mistari capital was backed against the mountains and surrounded by walls of thick stone - as impenetrable a fortress as Maka had ever seen. She couldn't glean much about the city's interior from the air, but could just make out colorful bands of cloth serving as shelter for an open-air market, while buildings made from the same stone as the walls lined meandering streets.

However, this was not to serve as their meeting place. As part of their role as neutral party, the Mistari had long ago erected an elaborate reception hall just outside the city, but no less well protected. Back against a sheer cliff, the hall rose impressively into the sky, its walls decorated with various carvings and tapestries. A delegation of guards met them at the entrance, nodding as the five landed and shifted back into human form. "The Dio and his son are waiting," one of them said. "The serpiente have already arrived."

Another guard pushed aside the filmy curtains that served as doors to the hall and gestured for them to enter. The interior was dimmer than outside, but still well lit by dozens of candelabras arranged around the space. Skylights cut into the roof high above sent shafts of bright sunlight to illuminate the ornately tiled floor in a regular fashion. Intricate stone murals covered the walls, depicting various tales from Mistari culture. Two sets of pillows were laid out in front of a raised platform at the end of the hall, where two simple, yet elegant thrones currently housed the Mistari Dio, Lord Death, and his son, Death the Kid.

But it was the group seated on the cushions to Maka's right that stole her attention. Camille Evans inclined her head in acknowledgement, a small smile on her face as she rested on hand gently against her stomach. Sitting next to her was an older woman with dark hair and blue eyes so pale they were almost colorless. This, then, was Eloise Evans, Ira Evans' second wife. She might not have been a cobra, as her late husband and son were, as her last remaining son was, but Maka had no doubt that she was no less deadly. Two other serpiente sat a little behind Eloise and Camille, their carefully relaxed postures and sharp eyes revealing them to be guards. That left the man sitting a little ways in front, and clearly the leader of their delegation.

Soul Evans slouched on his cushion with a kind of uncaring grace that looked so natural as to almost be rehearsed. He played with the fringe of the pillow, his only outward display of agitation (if indeed it was that at all and not some kind of carefully designed act). He wore a simple white tunic and dark pants, and were it not for his distinct features, might have passed for someone of a much lower station. His hands stilled as Maka's group approached, and she took notice of the signet ring he wore, identical to his brother's.

Soul looked up as Maka stopped near the cushions, his bone-white hair shifting out of his face and for the second time that week, Maka was pinned in place by a pair of ruby eyes, though Soul's were a shade darker than his brother's. Maka's breath caught in her chest, releasing only when he looked away to scan the rest of their group.

Black*Star touched her arm to briefly reorient her, guiding her to the cushion pushed slightly ahead of the others. Maka and Kami had discussed this, Maka serving as representative, but the weight of that role only truly settled onto her shoulders as she took her place on the cushion.

Lord Death stood, his pitch black cloak billowing around him with every movement. "Several days ago," he began, his voice issuing from the dark void of his hood, "a delegation from the serpiente people came to us, expressing interest in using our lands as a neutral ground to discuss the war that has been raging between your peoples for generations. We agreed, and so both of you have come here to discuss the potential of peace. Who, then will speak for the avians?"

Kami lifted her chin, ever the proud avian queen. "My daughter, Maka Albarn, will soon take the title of Tuuli Thea and as such, will speak for our people."

Lord Death nodded. "And who will speak for the serpiente?"

Eloise responded, "My son, Soul Evans, will soon inherit his brothers' title of Diente. He will speak for us."

Lord Death acknowledged them both, and though he faced her, Maka could see no glimpse of expression under his hood. She resisted the urge to fidget under his gaze.

Lord Death turned his stare to his son, who took it as a cue of some sort. He stood, brushing off his immaculately tailored suit, his glowing golden eyes casting across the delegations seated before him. "Both of you have come to us seeking peace, a goal which is clearly shared between your peoples, if your presence here today is any indication." He spread his hands in a questioning gesture. "Why, then, do you need our help?"

"Even if we are willing," Soul said, "that doesn't mean our people are. Distrust runs deep, and though we might look for peaceful ways to end the fighting, not all of my people will be so willing to lay down their arms."

Death the Kid looked to Maka for corroboration. She nodded. "Our soldiers are chomping at the bit to retaliate for the losses we incurred earlier this week. They're not going to give up on that idea so easily, not unless we find some way to convince them that peace is a viable option. My mother and I may serve as their leaders, but our power only extends so far."

Kid looked to his father, an unreadable expression on his face. Though no words were spoken, some message was clearly conveyed, because Kid turned back to face them and said, "So despite your willingness to end the conflict and forge peace, your people will doubt your decision."

Soul and Maka nodded.

"If you are to lead your people into a new era, if they are to follow you from the lifetimes of bloodshed and fighting, you must be willing to show them how much you yourselves are willing to give to bring them into that new peace." Kid looked from Maka to Soul. "How much are you willing to give to end the war?"

"Anything." Maka and Soul spoke in unison, their entwined voices rising to echo in the hall. Despite the rising temptation, Maka avoided meeting Soul's gaze, instead keeping her eyes on Kid.

"If you truly plan to mend the deep rift that runs between your peoples, you must strike a balance. Only when the both of you meet in the middle, might you convince your people to similarly cross that divide."

Kid's cryptic words tipped the scales in Maka's internal struggle, and she snuck a glance at Soul to see if he might comprehend what Kid was trying to say. To her surprise, a look of apprehension had stolen across his face - he, at least, had some idea of where this was going.

Lord Death stepped forward, taking the conversational reins from his son. "We have spoken at great length of what actions might best facilitate the peace you both desire. You do not have to listen to us, but you came seeking our counsel, and it is this: close the divide by combining your two sides into one. If your people can see that you are able to put aside your distrust and hatred, then they may be more willing to follow you. Maka Albarn, take Soul Evans as your Evans, take Maka Albarn as your mate."

Chaos erupted on both sides as both avian and serpiente voices clamored over each other in protest. Black*Star shouted angrily, gesturing wildly, though his words were lost in the commotion. Eloise's eyes were cold as ice as she spat her protests, and the guards themselves were mere moments away from drawing their weapons.

Yet through it all, Soul and Maka remained silent, both too rattled to add their objections to the clamor. They locked eyes across the hall, and though Maka never thought she might identify with the serpiente leader, she thought she saw her own shock reflected in his face.

Lord Death held an arm out for silence, though it took several moments to achieve. Gradually both groups settled, but the air was now filled with a thick tension. "If neither of you are willing to make this sacrifice," he said, his voice graver than before, "how can you expect it of your people? At the very least, think on our words. Stay the night, and we can reconvene tomorrow to discuss the possibility, if either of you are willing."

The hall emptied quickly after his declaration, both delegations eager to discuss what had just occurred in the privacy of their own camps. Maka's group was ushered to a campsite set up on one end of the meeting grounds, while the serpiente were led to the other. Food and drink were provided, and though Maka partook of what was offered, she tasted none of it.

Black*Star stopped by her tent, still clearly keyed up from the afternoon's meeting. It took several reassurances for him to finally leave, but before he did, he said, "I know you want peace, Maka. But I think this might be too high a price to pay for it."

Maka said nothing, only watched as the flap of her tent settled back into place. The shadows around her wavered in the low candlelight as she made her way to the raised sleeping pallet, her movements automatic as she dressed down for sleep. Her mind raced with the proposal Lord Death had made - unite the royal families, and end the war. Logically, it might have even made sense, but could anyone honestly expect an overnight shift from enemies to pair bond? How could they even entertain the idea of the possibility?

But at the same time… both sides had managed to briefly put aside their animosity and agree to meet to discuss peace, a feat that, based on Maka's own research, hadn't occurred in living memory. A political marriage might be out of the question, but it was possible that other avenues remained. Maka forced herself to put aside that afternoon's meeting and focus on that - the hope that peace might still be within their grasp.

And on that happier thought, Maka climbed onto the pallet and allowed sleep to claim her.

* * *

Maka woke suddenly, and for a moment, she remained perfectly still, every sense on high alert to try and determine what, exactly, had woken her.

The question was answered as a dark figure emerged from the shadows, the guttering candlelight casting an orange glow into his pale hair. Those ruby eyes, while not as potent as in the daylight, still glittered in the darkness. Maka forced herself into a sitting position, her every muscle tensed as she reached for the knife stashed under her pillow. "You know, as assassination attempts go, this has to be the worst I've ever seen."

"It certainly is, seeing as I'm not here to assassinate you." Soul slid onto one of the pillows laid out near the center of the tent. "I'm only here to talk," he said, hands out in a pacifying gesture. "Just you and me, without any outside influence." Before Maka could move, his gaze flicked to where her hand was clutching the knife under the pillow. "Neither of us is stupid enough to attack the other in Mistari lands, so why don't you put that down and join me?"

Maka bit back a stinging retort and left the dagger where it was. She slid off her pallet and sat on the cushion across from Soul, carefully tucking her legs underneath her, but keeping herself ready to move should the need arise. "What did you want to talk about?"

"After Lord Death made his proposal, our peace talks ceased quite suddenly, and yet you were the only one not shouting your dismay."

"Maybe I was too shocked to speak up."

"See, I don't think that's it," Soul said, shaking his head. "I think you're like me, desperate to end this war, even if it means sacrificing everything."

"I am _nothing_ like you," Maka hissed, nails digging into her palms. "Don't you _dare_ presume what I'm thinking." The anger tasted bitter on her tongue, reminding her of the mask she'd neglected to don the moment Soul had entered her tent. She quickly slipped it on, allowing the calculated calm to settle over her, but the damage had already been done. Soul watched her features even out, and something shuttered in his own eyes. "Does this mean you're considering the idea, then?" she asked, all traces of her previous rage washed away.

Soul didn't answer the question, but instead continued to study her. "I thought I knew you, once. Your kind was arrogant and unfeeling, unmoved by loss. I hated you."

"You make it sound like you don't anymore."

"Do you still have that carved wood trunk at the foot of your bed?"

Maka stilled, her face going white. It took a couple of tries to find her voice. "What."

"And that sculpted metal tree on top of your armoire - it's very beautiful."

"Who told you that? If you thought you could come in here and threaten me-"

"If I wanted you dead, Maka, you would be."

He spoke the truth, Maka realized, though her heart didn't pound any softer. If he'd seen the inside of her room at the Keep, or had a spy there with easy access, then he'd also had at least one opportunity to kill her.

And yet here she was.

"Why tell me this?" she demanded. "Are you trying to scare me?"

"No," Soul said, "and something tells me it would take a great deal to frighten you. No, I'm only trying to…" He trailed off, then sighed in frustration as he ran a hand through his hair.

"I know those things about you room, Maka, because I've been there," he said quietly, his eyes on his lap. "In the Keep. I know you think it's the most secure place for your kind, but if you're determined enough, you can find your way up to the top. And I did."

"Why?" Maka asked, her voice pitched just as low. "So you could throw it in my face?"

"It was years ago," Soul continued, ignoring her. "I'd just lost my father the night before, in a surprise attack. I'd lost loved ones before, of course, but my father-" He shook his head. "I don't know why I thought I could keep him longer than I did. I knew the odds, but even still…" He looked up at her, and though his words betrayed a vast array of emotions, his expression was as calm as ever. "I was furious, and devastated, and everything you feel when a parent dies. I vowed that I would get my vengeance, and so I stole into your lands and into your Keep, all the way up into your bedroom."

Though Maka knew the inevitable conclusion of the evening, she could not help the chill that raced down her spine. To think that Soul Evans had stood in her bedroom, staring down at her as she'd slept, with rage in his heart… "Why didn't you kill me then?"

"I meant to. But when I looked down at you… there was a cut on your cheek, and you were crying in your sleep. A nightmare, I think. And in that moment, I realized how young you were, how young I was. You suffered just as I did, even if you didn't let the world show it."

Bile rose in Maka's throat. She knew exactly what night Soul described, knew what had caused the cut, what dreadful thing brought the nightmares and tears with it. The worst night of her life, and it had been the thing that inadvertently saved her.

"I looked at you, and I saw myself," Soul said. "I thought I hated you, and I tried to tell myself that I did, but it was a lie. You were no more responsible for the war than I was."

"Why are you telling me this?" Maka asked again. She felt a little numb.

"I'm trying to tell you that I don't hate you, and I don't want you dead." Soul shrugged. "There might have been better ways to get that across, but I thought it best to go with honesty." He shifted on the cushions, bringing himself a little closer to Maka. She did her best not to flinch away, but judging from the frown that flickered across Soul's face, she wasn't entirely successful. "Maka, we both want this war to end - you wouldn't have come here if that wasn't the case. Don't we owe it to our people to at least try to consider every possible option? I'm willing - are you?"

Maka met his gaze head on, those red eyes pinning her in place. She swallowed, every nerve shaken by what Soul had told her.

"Just - promise me you'll think about it," Soul asked. "We'll be here tomorrow to meet with Lord Death and Kid to discuss the idea. All I'm asking is that you keep an open mind, like you did when you sang lullabies to my brother as he died."

Maka started. "You-"

"I was there, Maka. I'd heard that my brother had decided to join the battle, to fight alongside his soldiers, but by the time I got there…" He bowed his head. "I heard you singing to him as he died, and I have to think that someone who would do that for her greatest enemy might be willing to take another step towards peace. Just… think about it."

Soul reached out a hand towards her, but before he could touch her, the flaps to Maka's tent flew open, revealing Black*Star and another Royal Flight guard. They immediately honed in on Soul, who bolted to his feet, his eyes darting for a way out. Maka stepped in front of him on instinct, holding a hand out to stop the guards.

"It's fine," she said, pinning Black*Star with a commanding stare. "Nothing's wrong, we were only talking. Soul was about to leave anyway." Maka gave a pointed look to Soul, who had already slipped back into the uncaring demeanor from earlier.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me," he said, no trace of the brutal honesty and desperation he had spoken with before. But despite that, Maka thought she could see through the act just a little better now. She wondered if he felt the same.

Black*Star and his companion stood down only reluctantly, moving aside only barely. Though Soul held himself casually, ever the disinterested royal, there was a tension in his limbs that Maka had seen every day of her life in the sparring ring. If Black*Star attacked him, Soul would not take it lying down.

Soul had to practically shoulder past Black*Star on his way out of Maka's tent. The captain bristled as he passed by, but Maka grabbed his upper arm and squeezed tightly enough to leave a bruise, if Black*Star's wince was anything to go by. It didn't stop Black*Star from burning a hole in the back of Soul's head, however.

As though sensing his gaze, Soul turned back to meet Black*Star's before looking to Maka and nodding once. His eyes seemed a little softer then, and she could almost see the question there. She nodded back deliberately, and knew her answer had been received: _Yes. I'll think about it._

In the blink of an eye, Soul shifted, and Maka could barely make out the white cobra slithering away across the camping grounds before he'd disappeared into the shadows.

"Are you alright?' Black*Star demanded, scanning her from head to toe.

"I'm fine," Maka said. "Honestly. He only wanted to talk about today's peace talks, and tomorrow's. That's it."

"He could have attacked you, Maka," Black*Star pressed. "And none of us would have known before it was too late."

"I'm not completely helpless," Maka retorted. "As you well know. If he'd gone after me, it would have been a tremendously foolish move on his part. And he didn't, so there's nothing to worry about."

"Nothing to - Maka, are you serious?" Black*Star said incredulously.

" _Yes_ ," Maka said. "I'm perfectly fine, as you can well see, so I'm going back to bed." She turned on her heel and went back to her tent. As she ducked her head under the flap, she heard Black*Star say to another guard, "Tell the Tuuli Thea what's happened." There was a rustling of fabric, and she turned to find Black*Star following her inside. "Maka, wait." Maka said nothing, only crossed her arms.

"Nothing might have happened tonight, but do you understand the danger you were in, that we were in?" Black*Star sighed. "Stupid move, looking him right in the eyes - he could have done anything to you, anything at all, and I would've been unable to move, helpless to do anything. Do you get it?" For a serpiente's stare was every avian's weakness - one Maka felt all to clearly when she'd looked into Soul's.

She uncrossed her arms, her shoulders falling from their defensive stance. "I know," she said quietly. "And I'm sorry. But I was telling the truth - he really did only want to talk."

"You have to be careful. With your coronation-"

"I am careful and you know it." Maka ignored Black*Star's disbelieving snort. "I weighed the risks and decided it was safe enough. But thanks for looking out."

Black*Star nodded, opening his mouth to say something, but a disturbance outside Maka's tent had him stepping back and assuming a guard's more formal posture.

Seconds later, Kami burst in, her expression so hard it might have been carved from stone. "Explain this," she ordered. "Explain how Soul Evans ends up in your tent and you don't immediately send for help."

Exhaustion hit Maka like a tidal wave. "We can't talk about this tomorrow, Mother?"

The expression Kami gave her said more than enough about that possibility.

"He only came to talk. He thought it best if we discussed Lord Death's proposal before we met tomorrow."

Kami waved a hand in dismissal. "That? It's a ludicrous idea - he can't possibly be entertaining it."

The words were out of Maka's mouth before she'd decided to say them. "Why not? Why couldn't it work?"

Kami's mouth dropped open, her eyes wide as she completely abandoned her mask of formality. "Maka, you can't be serious."

Maka shrugged. "I'm only suggesting-"

"You're not suggesting anything." Kami's expression shuttered, reverting back to her usual coldness.

"I'll be Tuuli Thea soon-"

"But until then, the title is still mine." Kami turned to Black*Star. "Begin preparations to break down camp, and send someone to convey our apologies to Lord Death and his son. We won't be attending tomorrow's meeting; we're leaving tonight."

"Mother!"

Kami whirled on her. "This isn't a debate. We're leaving, and _that's an order_."

A muscle twitched in Maka's jaw, but her voice was perfectly calm as she replied, "Yes, Mother."


	4. Chapter Three

Though Maka bristled over her mother's deaf ear, she could not fault Kami for wanting to protect her daughter from what would likely be a life spent paired to a man she could not even trust, much less love. In avian society, the Tuuli Thea was promised to a young avian shortly after her birth. The two would be raised together, forging a bond of trust that would serve as the basis for their pair bond. Maka had been promised to a boy named Derik a few weeks after she'd been born, and though they'd grown to be friends, he'd been killed during a surprise raid when they'd still been quite young. She'd spent more of her life without an alistair than with one, but considering the violent, all-consuming nature of the war, that situation wasn't entirely unusual. If the promised alistair died before the heir ascended to Tuuli Thea, a new alistair would be named at the coronation.

It was a fact Maka had known, but as the day of the ceremony inched closer and closer, the reality of her choice loomed overhead. And even despite this, she could not stop thinking about what Lord Death had proposed. The more Maka thought about it, the more she dismissed it as impossible, and yet the idea still lingered. To distract herself from it, Maka threw herself into preparations for the upcoming ceremony, even as anxiety wound its way through her gut with every day that passed. To dispel it, she trained extensively with the Royal Flight, sparring with any and every guard that she could. Black*Star knew something was bothering her, based on the sideways looks he kept shooting her, but for once, he wisely kept his mouth shut.

Two solid weeks of planning, preparation, and training took its toll, and Maka often found herself falling into deep, dreamless sleep every night.

But not tonight.

Tonight, her mind saw fit to weave her memories and fears into one frightening tapestry, each thread woven so tightly to another that scenes slid into and from the foreground without any overlap.

She was nine, her alistair twelve, tricked into checking on his ailing aunt only to discover the letter a malicious ruse, leaving him lying in a pool of his own blood…

She was thirteen, walking the killing fields for the first time, overwhelmed by the stench of fear and death, trying to hold back the bile but ultimately unsuccessful…

She was sixteen, and sneaking out to join in the battle that raged in the fields not a stone's throw from the Keep…

Maka measured her steps carefully against the loose cobblestones of the road that wound its way next to the forest, her hand resting gently on the sword strapped to her side. The weight that had seemed so unwieldy when she'd first tried it on was completely natural now, a testament to the years of training she'd endured. But tonight, tonight was the first time she would finally be able to put it to action, to serve her people with actions, and not just pretty words spoken from the top of a tower.

Her heart raced in her chest, and though she tried hard to quell it, her hands shook slightly at her side. Despite all her training, it had not prepared her for the screams of battle, of pain, that echoed from the fields beyond the woods.

Maka stepped from the road and entered the forest, her feet carefully testing the ground before bringing her full weight down. She crept closer and closer to the battle, her hand tightening against her sword with every step.

Just before she reached the edge of the forest, a hand seized her elbow and whirled her around. The only thing that kept her from screaming in fright was the face of the person who'd grabbed her: Spirit, her father.

But instead of the smiles he normally gifted her, his expression was twisted into one of fear and rage. "Maka, what the hell do you think you're doing?!" he hissed, his voice so low it was near impossible to hear. "Get back to the Keep, now!"

"I only wanted to help," she protested, but making sure to match his volume. "How can I ask them to fight in this war if I'm not willing to do the same?"

" _You are heir to the Tuuli Thea_ ," he snapped. "If we lose you, we lose _everything_."

"But, Father-"

Spirit stiffened suddenly, his head whipping up to look behind her. Maka's heart pounded against her ribs, and she slowly turned her head…

...to find Black*Star skidding to a stop near them, his chest heaving. "I've been looking everywhere," he wheezed, but he barely stopped to catch his breath. He held a hand out to Maka. "We've got to go, the fighting is spreading this way."

Indeed, the sounds of battle were growing nearer, the light from the fires growing brighter. Spirit took Maka's hand and shoved it roughly at Black*Star, who grabbed it tightly. "Get her out of here," he ordered. Black*Star nodded and began to tug Maka away.

She followed him blindly, stumbling through the forest, the branches tearing at her arms and face. And yet still, the sounds of fighting did not quiet.

They erupted from the treeline, but instead of the path that would take them back to the Keep, and to safety… they'd somehow found their way to the edge of battle.

Black*Star's hand in hers was the only thing she registered, the only force guiding her in the dark. Fires dotting the battlefield illuminated shadowy figures, avian and serpiente alike.

Maka's foot caught on an exposed root. She crashed to the ground, her hand ripping from his. She struggled to her feet, but when she looked, Black*Star was nowhere to be found.

She ran. Her breath caught, burning in her throat, her feet sticking in the muddy field. She dodged any figure she saw, for in the darkness friend was well nigh impossible to tell from foe. One of them lunged for her-

Black*Star had found her again. He yanked her to the side, pushing her head down as he shuttled her away, back into the forest and towards the road home. They were almost clear of the forest when a familiar cry echoed from behind a thick oak, drawing Maka's attention.

She knew that voice. Had heard it every day, raised in joy, lowered in contrition. But never like this. "That's-"

Black*Star hissed something and tried to tug her forward, but she slipped away from him, her focus entirely on the sound. She rounded the tree, trying to convince herself that she'd find nothing…

She didn't.

Despite the darkness, Maka could still make out the vivid red hair of her father, matted together with sticky blood oozing from the ugly gash in his throat. His eyes stared upwards, the light behind them already gone. Time stopped, the world paused in one long, interminable second as Maka stared at the body that had up until mere moments ago, held her father. A pair of feet stood nearby, and se Maka slowly dragged her face up, she met the gaze of the serpiente soldier who killed him, his face grim as he took one step forward, then another.

" _Maka, get back!_ " Black*Star's roar was faint in her ears, but the world seemed to slam back into place as he curled one arm around her waist and yanked her body backwards. The serpiente's sword swung through the air just in front of her, the tip of the blade slicing a shallow cut in Maka's cheek. The pain didn't even register as Black*Star shoved her away, screaming at her to _run, run, get back to the Keep!_

Her chest burned, each breath tearing from her lungs, but she kept running, faster than she'd ever had in her life, fast enough that maybe she could leave this horrible truth behind - that she was the reason her father was dead.

She ran, but the road beneath her never yielded any ground, instead stretching farther and farther out in front of her…

She was almost eighteen now, sitting in her bed in the Keep, with Soul Evans standing in a puddle of moonlight before her, saying, "Please don't shout."

Would this never end?

Maka swung her legs over the side of her bed and leaned her elbows on her knees. She dug the heels of her palms into her eyelids, hoping that the pressure might drive away the nightmares and bring her back to the waking world. But when she opened them again, Soul was still standing in the center of the room, looking faintly amused. "I don't need this right now," she groaned.

"I do apologize for my sudden appearance, but in my defense, you left the meeting grounds rather abruptly." He spread his hands in an innocent gesture. "What else was I supposed to do?"

"You mean you didn't do all this," she waved a hand around to reference his presence in her supposedly unbreachable bedroom, "just to prove a point?"

Soul tilted his head in consideration. "Well, not _only_."

"What do you want?"

"Isn't that obvious?"

"No, Soul, nothing to do with this war is _obvious_." She sighed, standing up from the bed and going to stand in the open doorway connected to the balcony. A gentle breeze kissed her face, gently playing with the loose strands of hair on her forehead.

"Maka?" She turned to look at Soul, who'd taken a few steps towards her, his eyebrows drawn together slightly. "Are you alright?"

She barked a harsh laugh. "Am I alright? No, of course I'm not _alright_." She bit off the word harshly, and it was through a dam had cracked inside of her, letting loose every single emotion she was not allowed to feel in her waking hours. "I only want to sleep without being plagued by the sight of everyone I have ever lost. All I can see are my friends, dead and dying, over and over and over. Choking on their own blood, burning in the funeral pyres…" Maka swallowed hard, her eyes burning. "All I want to do is stop it," she whispered. "I can't lose anyone else. But I'm about to be Tuuli Thea. I'm about to inherit the full weight of this war, and then that's all I'm going to know. All I want is to end all of this, and _I don't know how_."

Silence hung heavy in the air, and when Maka met Soul's gaze, he was sizing her up with a strange look on his face. It was more direct than she'd ever seen him, and she resisted the urge to wrap her arms around herself in an attempt to hide.

"I don't know, either," he said quietly. "If I could go back and stop the fighting sooner, I would have. I'd do anything to keep from losing one more person. But, Maka… we both want peace. If we're both willing, I have to imagine that it's possible."

He padded silently across the room to her. As he reached her side, he lifted his hand up and hovered near her arm, asking silent permission. When she didn't move away, he lightly touched her forearm, his head ducking down so he could look her in the eye. "If you come to the palace tomorrow afternoon, I'll make sure that the guards posted at the door will let you in without questions." With his other hand, he drew something from his pocket and pressed it into her palm. "We can meet there, talk further about plans for peace. Will you come?"

Maka nodded, her head growing heavy as she curled her fingers around whatever he'd given her.

Soul reached up, and before Maka could move, brushed a strand of hair away from her face. Then he turned and crossed the room, slipping through the doors without a word.

Maka looked down to see what Soul had given her, but colors started to blur as the scene faded, slipping next to the vision of her father singing a lullaby, and she gladly abandoned the dream within her room for another chance to hear his voice.

* * *

Maka had meant to attend market the next day, but was so exhausted that she opted instead to stay in bed, trying to make up for the sleep lost to nightmare the night before. It was late morning when she finally rose, mostly due to a summons from her mother.

She dressed quickly and ascended to the top floors of the Keep, where her mother stood at the edge of her balcony, the wind gently teasing her hair. Maka shifted as she landed beside her mother, who nodded at her arrival. "I'm meeting with the flight leaders, now, and since your coronation is approaching, I thought it best if you joined me." She turned and left the balcony, leaving Maka to follow her through her rooms and into the hall. They descended until they reached the top floor of the Royal Flight's quarters, where one section was cordoned off to serve as meeting and strategy rooms.

Due to the structure of the Royal Flight, Maka had rarely, if ever, spoken with any of the flight leaders sitting at the meeting table in the center of the room. She knew their names their roles, but since they reported to Black*Star, who in turn reported to her, Maka had never had the opportunity to meet with anyone below him. This was her first time sitting on one of her mother's war councils; Maka tried and failed to ignore the knot of nerves in her stomach.

A kite named Azusa spoke first. "Ma'am, since it's been quite these past few weeks following the last attack, we've been working on patching up our lost ranks and have been relatively successful. In addition, we've just received a shipment of am'haj from Ahnmik, and are working to replenish our stock of treated arrows."

Am'haj was a poison created by the more reclusive nation of falcons, and though they had tried for years to reproduce it, the avians had never managed it. Its success lay in the fact that avians were completely unaffected by it, but a simple scratch on a serpiente was enough to kill them almost instantly. It was a rare advantage in the war, and one they guarded jealously. It was rumored that, should it be requested, the falcons could provide even more aid, but the price was subjugation to their rule - no queen had ever accepted that price.

But they still accepted the poison.

"We're not entirely sure why it's been quiet," Azusa said, adjusting her spectacles as she frowned at the paper in front of her. "It may be that they lost more soldiers than we estimated, especially considering the loss of Wes Evans. I propose that we take advantage of this." She looked up. "There's a young osprey named Ox who has volunteered to help plan our next attack; he claims that he's studied the serpiente for years and can help guide our efforts."

Kami tilted her head as she thought. "What does this Ox recommend?"

"It's clear that your abrupt leave for and return from Mistari lands caused some confusion; he suggests we take advantage with a direct attack-"

"No." Maka's voice cut through the room, surprising even herself. Every eye turned to her, though her mother's gaze felt heaviest. Despite the scrutiny, Maka kept her head held high as she continued, "Has no one considered another option for why the attacks have ceased?"

Based on the quizzical looks exchanged around the room, clearly no one had.

"Isn't it possible that the serpiente want peace, and that's why it's been so quiet?"

As Maka wept her gaze across the room, it was clear by the jaded and skeptical expressions staring back that no, the idea of peace hadn't occurred to them. War was the only thing they knew, the only thing that framed their very being. They couldn't and wouldn't comprehend anything else.

So Maka changed tactics. "We've tried direct attacks - they're nothing more than opportunities for the serpiente to take out as many of our kind as they can. Yes, they sustain losses as well, but have you forgotten how many we lost just a scant few weeks ago? Yes, Wes Evans was killed, but as you've just pointed out, it's taken until this long to patch up our ranks. We can't sustain those numbers." From the grim looks on a few of the flight leaders' faces, some of them had already figured that out. "It would be suicide, even if they are disorganized.

"If you can't believe they want peace, then the other alternative is that they've got a plan for counterattack, and they're taking the time to set it into motion. It could very well be that if we attack, we walk right into a bloodbath."

An oppressive silence filled the room as her words sunk in. "Do you have something else in mind, then?" Kami asked. Her mother's face and voice were unaffected, but years of interpreting her every twitch meant that Maka was adept at reading her mother's moods: Kami wasn't happy about Maka's interruption.

The truth was, Maka didn't have an alternative; she'd only spoken out to try and stem any potential loss of life. But she couldn't just shrug and yield the floor now. "A less direct approach might be best - hitting them with a blow they couldn't see coming."

"And how might we do that?" Azusa asked, skeptical.

"Well, we've only been attacking and defending directly, as you've said. All movements that can be easily anticipated. But if we had a way to know their plans before they're implemented…"

"You're suggesting a spy," Kami said flatly. "Maka, you know we've tried avenues like that before, and it never works out well, or anyone involved." She looked to Azusa. "It may be time that we agree to a little more risk, if it might mean dealing a crippling enough blow. I don't relish the idea, but something has to give-"

"I'm working on something," Maka blurted. All eyes were once more on her. "But it needs more time. After my coronation as Tuuli Thea." Then, at least, Maka would have the power she needed behind her, regardless of what she actually came up with. "Give me until then to perfect the details. But if you'd like, keep working with Ox on whatever plan for attack you think is best - you'll need that long to do so anyway. If no one else has anything better, then we can put it to action. Does that sound fair?"

Maka has directed the question to Azusa, but Kami was the true authority here. The silence seemed interminable as Kami regarded her daughter closely, and though Maka could usually read her, there was nothing in her expression to hint at what she might be thinking. Finally, she said, "Three days, after your coronation." She didn't say anything about implementing Maka's idea, but neither had she ordered for a full-scale attack. Maka decided to take it as a victory.

The meeting was dismissed soon after that, with everyone scattering to their various duties. Maka went to return to her room, but Kami soon caught up with her. "You spoke well," she said simply.

That wasn't the impression Maka had gotten. "Did you think so?"

"Leading a war effort often requires different perspectives. No one in there would accuse you of not caring for your people."

"I only wish there was some better way. Something to ensure that no soldier would ever die on the battlefield."

"Maka." Kami stopped, forcing Maka to turn back around to face her. Kami's face was uncharacteristically soft, and her fingers fluttered as though they wished to reach out. However, Kami only said, "There are no absolutes in life, Maka. A wise leader accepts that, even if she wishes it weren't true." She regarded Maka thoughtfully, then added, "I was idealistic like you, once. Full of faith and dreams and a vision of what I wanted my future to be. I see myself in you, which is how I know you're ready to take my place."

Maka's throat went thick with emotion. "Thank you, Mother."

"Have you given any thought as to who your alistair will be? It would be good for you to announce it at your coronation, give your people something hopeful to think on."

Dread knotted in Maka's stomach. "I've been considering it."

Kami waited for more, but when Maka said nothing, she said softly, "I know it can be a difficult choice, Maka. But I do think having an alistair by your side will only help you." A flicker of some deep emotion passed across her face, but was gone before Maka could identify it. "Now, if that's all, I have a meeting with some merchants." She nodded at her daughter, and in the next moment, was sweeping down the hall and rounding a corner.

Maka blew out a breath to steady herself. She felt as though she was teetering on the edge of a vast precipice, and one wrong move would send her plummeting into the shadowy abyss below. How had everything spiraled so out of her control? She didn't have a secret plan in motion, she had no idea who to pick as her alistair, and she would take the throne in a mere three days' time. She doubted she could straighten everything out by then.

Well, there was only one thing left to do, then, wasn't there? Maka's feet began directing her down a familiar path, one she always took when she was feeling particularly stressed or adrift. The heavy wooden doors of the library yielded easily under her hand, swinging open with nary a sound. The thick, heavy air within wrapped around her like a comforting blanket; the musy ink-and-paper smell tickled her nose. She skimmed her fingers across rows of familiar spines, picking out a few of her favorites, as well as some scrolls and tomes regarding diplomatic strategy and tactics - perhaps she could find the solution she needed within their pages.

Hours later, and the only thing Maka had gained was a crick in her neck from hunching over at her favorite reading table. She sat back, stretching her cramped muscles, and tried not to dwell on her failure. Just because no one had ever tried for peace, didn't mean it wasn't possible.

...Right?

* * *

The next day passed in a blur of preparations for the upcoming coronation, which was both a blessing and a curse. Maka didn't have the time to think about anything other than the ceremony that would name her Tuuli Thea - which meant that she also didn't have any ideas regarding the secret plan she was meant to present to the war council. She allowed the various meetings and details to distract her, but still the knot of anxiety in her gut grew.

The morning before her coronation, Maka found two gifts placed gently on the trunk at the foot of her bed, both from Blair. Maka smiled as she opened the first box, revealing a gorgeous, silky dress. She held it up, admiring it in the morning light. It was a deep black, fitted in the chest and waist, then flaring out down to her ankles. A large black ribbon wrapped around the middle, ending in large tied bow in the back. Two layers of ruffled skirts peeked out the bottom. The dress came complete with soft black slippers and two feathered hairpieces, an homage to their winged forms and ancestors.

The second box was much smaller, and contained a delicate gold necklace. The chain held a pendant shaped from fine, nearly invisible wire in the form of a hawk's nest, which contained three glittering, jeweled eggs. Maka's mouth dropped open as she took in the piece - it was some of the finest craftwork she'd ever seen. She would have to ask Blair where she'd found it when she saw the seamstress next, for as fine a dressmaker as she was, a jeweler she was not.

Looking at the necklace, Maka was reminded of a bracelet she owned that would complement the gold perfectly, and set out to look for it. She rifled through her jewelry box, the drawers in her armoire, the drawers in her nightstand…

Something glittered on the floor just below the nightstand. Maka bent down to pick it up, only to realize it was a onyx signet ring, not the bracelet she'd been looking for.

But this ring was a piece she'd seen before.

The color drained from Maka's face. The dream she'd had, the outburst in front of Soul Evans - it hadn't been a dream. He really had asked her to come to the serpiente palace, really had given her this ring so that she could venture through his lands safely. Had asked her two nights ago, and yet… she'd never gone.

She'd never appeared despite her promise otherwise - what would he think? Had she just burned the only bridge leading to the possibility of peace? He likely assumed the worst of her, that she'd taken his pleas and dismissed him outright.

She couldn't spend one more moment here; the longer she delayed risked another day Soul believed there was no chance for peace. Maka raced through her room, changing into suitable traveling clothes. After a moment lingering on the dagger she normally kept strapped to her side, she discarded it, knowing full well that appearing armed in serpiente land, even bearing Soul's ring, would be a death sentence.

Right before she departed, Maka took the carved metal tree that normally sat on her armoire and moved it to the trunk at the foot of her bed, her silent code to Black*Star: _Don't worry, I'm out on a flight_. If course, this would likely be a longer flight out than he was used to, but hopefully she would return with a solid plan to make up for it.

She shifted on her balcony and soared up, up, up into the sky, the air currents slipping through her wings and carrying her swiftly over the surrounding forests.

The journey to serpiente lands was not a long one, especially when one had the luxury of traveling as the crow flew. Only a few hours after she'd left the Keep, she touched down in a wooded area a mile or so away from the serpiente palace - any closer and she'd risk being spotted by the guards posted outside. Though she carried Soul's seal, it would do her no good if the serpiente shot her down before she could pull it out.

Even with all that, Soul had asked her to come the day before, when loyal guards would be posted to allow her entry. Now, days later, there was no guarantee she would receive a similar reception.

With that in mind, Maka kept her footsteps quiet as she picked her way across the forest floor. The woods around her were unnaturally silent, as though they too recognized the gravity of the situation.

"Oh dear," a soft female voice said from behind her. Maka started and turned to see petite blonde woman step out from behind a nearby copse of tree. "Looks like we've found a grounded hawk, Aryn."

Her fine blonde hair was pulled back in a meticulous braid, her blue eyes disdainful as she scanned Maka. She was dressed in fighting leathers, patterned in such a way as to blur the edges of her figure amongst the undergrowth. Several knives were strapped to her side, and she carried a long staff topped with a heavy brass cap. At second glance, Maka recognized her as one of the serpiente guards from the Mistari meeting grounds, and at the same time, her eyes narrowed as she recognized Maka in turn.

Maka was just beginning to size up the situation when something sharp pricked at her throat. She stiffened, her breaths shallow as she tried to avoid the edge of the blade. "That we have, Anya," a male voice replied, his breath cool against Maka's ear. "It's dangerous to stray so far from your flock."

The guard behind her pressed her forward, and Maka had no choice but to follow as he led her toward the thick tree trunk nearby. The blade vanished from her throat, but the relief was short-lived as Maka was turned and pushed against the bark until her back pressed against its surface.

The second guard was outfitted similarly to the first, and even his fine, golden hair was a match for hers, suggesting that they shared more than a post to the same station.

"Soul Evans asked me to meet him," Maka said, but she wasn't optimistic about her chances in persuading them. "Look, he-"

There was a flash of silver, and another blade was pointed at her neck. "Search her, Aryn."

Her male counterpart stepped in front of her, his hands patting her down thoroughly in a search for weapons. Maka sent up a silent prayer of thanks that she'd decided to leave her knife at the Keep, for surely this encounter would not end well if they had discovered that on her. His inspection was detailed enough that he found the leather pouch Maka had stored the ring in, waiting for the right moment to display it in the hopes that it might allow her inside the palace, though that possibility was starting to look more and more slim. Maka hoped that he'd open the pouch and find the proof himself, but he only tucked it in a pocket without looking inside. Maka opened her mouth to try and explain, but the blade in front of her twitched, beckoning her to take a few steps forward. Maka obeyed, slowly, only to be struck in the back of her knees by the staff she carried.

Maka fell to the ground, hard, her knees barking in pain at the impact. "Restrain her," Anya ordered, not breaking eye contact. "I suppose we could get rid of you here and be done with it, but Soul wouldn't pass up the chance to interrogate the avian's precious heir."

Both relief and dread flooded through Maka. At least they'd be taking her to see Soul, where she might have some chance to explain her tardiness, but on the other hand, if Soul had given up on her, on the chance for peace… this meeting might not turn out the way she hoped.

Aryn bound her wrists tightly with a length of coarse rope, then yanked her to her feet in a rough gesture. They led her through the woods, walking for several minutes until the forest ended and the serpiente palace rose up before them. The guards posted at the gate nodded to the two beside her, then eyed Maka with equal parts curiosity and suspicion. Nevertheless, they opened the gate and waved them through, sending another pair of guards to follow them inside.

Maka wondered for a moment at the necessity of so many guards for one unarmed hawk, then remembered the sheer number of guards surrounding Camille Evans when she'd come to the Keep to deliver her message. It seemed that the propensity of inflating your enemy's skill and ability was not limited to the avians.

They led her through a never-ending series of winding hallways, and though it was nearly impossible to keep track, Maka was pretty sure they led her in circles a few times just to ensure that she wouldn't be able to find her way in or out again. Finally, they stepped inside a large receiving hall. Maka was barely inside before Anya's staff struck her in the small of her back, forcing her to her knees for the second time that day. On instinct, Maka went to rise, but a blow to the shoulder sent her crashing to the floor again. Maka hissed in pain, her back throbbing in protest, but kept her mouth shut. She'd made it this far - pushing her luck would not grant her any favors.

"Find Soul," Anya ordered. One of the guards who'd followed them in nodded and left the room. Anya adjusted her grip on her staff and raised an eyebrow, as though daring Maka to make another move. Maka kept her gaze on the marbled floor, the black, gold, and green colors of the snakeskin pattern blurring together.

It was only a few moments before the guard was back, this time accompanied by another set of footsteps. Anya's gaze shifted, a smirk crossing her face as she went to meet Soul. She leaned in to murmur something in his ear, her hand rising to rest intimately on his shoulder. They might have looked entirely comfortable with each other, had Maka not glimpsed Soul's face as Anya spoke. There was a flicker of discomfort, his body almost imperceptibly curling away from her. Maka might have missed it, but she had been training for years to read the body language of her opponents, and in a scenario such as this, those instincts were out in full force.

Soul pulled away, stepping into the hall as he scanned the room. "Anya said you found someone in the woods?" Before anyone could answer him, however, his gaze landed on Maka. In a single instant, his body had stiffened and his eyes clouded in anger. Maka flinched and waited for him to tear into her, to demand why she'd thrown away his offer of peace like some insignificant piece of trash.

Instead, he stalked to the guards by her side, shoving them away. "Get back," he ordered, his voice sharper than anything she'd heard from him before. Anya opened her mouth to protest, but the look Soul shot her had her closing her mouth and staying silent.

"Did you find anything on her?" Soul asked.

"She was unarmed." It was Aryn who answered this time, looking uncertain for the first time.

"That's not what I asked."

Aryn hesitated, then pulled the leather pouch from his pocket and held it out. "This was the only thing we found."

Soul took it without looking at him, then said, "You're all dismissed. Get out."

"But, my lord…"

"Get out, Anya!" The sheer anger in his voice, the command with which he gave his orders… Maka realized this was a very different Soul than the one she'd encountered before. Here was the last remaining heir to the serpiente throne, the one her people spoke of in fear.

To Maka's surprise, the remaining guards obeyed and left quickly. Had their situations been reversed, and Maka had been the one ordering Black*Star to leave her alone with Soul, she would have had a much harder time getting him to obey.

The door slid shut behind him, echoing softly in the large space of the hall. Soul's footsteps were silent on the marble floor as he approached her, sliding gently to his knees by her side. He pulled a knife from his belt, and for a split second, Maka wondered if this was it, if this was really how it was to end. But Soul only reached behind her and cut the rope binding her wrists.

Maka rubbed the raw skin, trying to soothe the ache away. Soul's eyes flicked to the angry red welts there and asked, "Are you alright?"

"Nothing I haven't had before," she answered truthfully. Sparring had often left her with her share of lumps and bruises - though painful, the blows would fade over time, and she was none the worse for wear. However, when she tried to stand, her body betrayed her, and her knees wobbled ungracefully as they tried to bear her weight. Maka stumbled, and Soul caught her arm before her poor knees could meet the unforgiving ground once more. His skin was unexpectedly cool. Maka pulled away quickly, brushing herself off to disguise the action. "I wouldn't expect anything different from your guards."

Soul sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Anya and her brother, Aryn, are loyal, yes, but they're also the absolute last ones I would have sent out had I known you were coming."

Maka winced. "I tried to show then the ring, but they didn't bother to look in the pouch." She gestured to the bag Soul still held. "I brought your ring, tried to explain, but they weren't exactly in a listening mood."

Soul sighed. "I'll talk to them. In the meantime, sit. Your knees could probably use the rest." He reached for her arm to guide her to a table at the back of the hall. Maka had to force herself to let him, to not flinch away as her instincts wished. Touching so freely… it was jarring. Within avian culture, touching others, even as a gesture of support, was frowned upon. Maka had been known to slip up, to lean on Black*Star when exhaustion or grief had overcome her, but even that had earned her a fair share of sideways looks and murmurs. To accept such a casual touch from her people's greatest enemy was difficult, to say the least.

Maka sat, her muscles relaxing as she took stock of her bruises. As she'd told Soul, it was nothing worse than any lumps Black*Star had given her. They would be sore for a few days, but they would heal.

"You're lucky Camille is the optimist of the family," Soul said, settling into a chair next to her. "I was beginning to give up hope, but Camille told me to be patient. As always," he grinned ruefully, "she was right."

"I don't have long," Maka said. "Between the time it took to get here, and the time it will take to get back… if you have a plan, we need to figure it out now, before I return. I won't be able to come again anytime soon."

"You inherit the title of Tuuli Thea tomorrow, don't you?"

Maka shot him a sideways look. "Yes," she said slowly. Avian traditions and ceremonies, while not secret, were also not widely broadcasted. Despite their discussion of Maka inheriting the title soon at the failed peace talks, she was fairly certain they'd never named a date.

Soul caught her unasked question and answered, "I have a some sources who keep me up-to-date on these things."

Spies. He meant that he had spies at the Keep, spies who would have to be avian to have that much ready access. How on earth had he managed to cultivate a source like that? And what else did they know and pass on? "Can I ask who these sources are?"

"You can," Soul said lightly. "If we manage to figure something out and end this war, I might even tell you." Meaning that if they didn't, Soul would keep his sources and their steady flow of information.

Oh, how careful was this dance between them - give the other side just enough to show you were sincere, but don't compromise resources you might need should everything fall through. Maka's head hurt just thinking on it. Both were willing to try for peace, but neither was willing to become as vulnerable as they might need to be.

Soul must have been thinking the same thing, because he leaned forward slightly and said, "Look, Maka, I told you before, I'm willing to try for peace. I want to end this war as much as you do. But I'm also going to protect my people by any means necessary. And I think you are, too."

As much as she didn't want to admit it, he was right. Whatever their differences, they felt the same in this regard. She swallowed hard and nodded.

Soul closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, there was a steely resolve there she hadn't seen before. "I have thought long and hard on this, debating the merits of every possible plan and idea for peace that I could come up with. Every single one ended in bloodshed, except for one. Except for a plan proposed to me, to us, by a neutral party. I thought it seemed impossible, but… I have to try."

He slid from his chair until he was kneeling on the ground before Maka, one hand on the table, the other on the arm of her chair, bracketing her in. "Before I ask, I want to make sure everything's clear - I am asking this only because we share a desire for peace, and because I think this is our best chance of achieving that. With that in mind, and understanding that I will not ask for anything outside the political expectations of the position - Maka Albarn, will you be my Naga?"

It was as though all air had been sucked from the room. Maka stared at him. Logically, she had known that this idea was technically on the table, but to be asked so straightforwardly… Maka felt pulled in a million different directions, and though she wished one could tell her definitively what to say, show her which choice was the correct one, she knew she could only do her best, and hope that it would be enough.

How could she say yes, knowing that it would give Soul complete access to her life, to any opportunity to wipe her people out?

How could she say no, when she was offered a chance to completely and utterly end the war?

"How am I to get my guards to agree?" she asked shakily, her hands gripping the arms of the chair for dear life. "My mother?"

"We can worry about that later," Soul said, and his use of "we" only served to throw Maka off even further. "Only consider what you think is best."

Maka didn't know how she found the voice to give her answer, but find it she did. "Yes. Yes, I'll be your Naga."

Soul's only reply was a nod. He slipped his hand into his pocket and pulled out another ring, this one smaller than the signet one she had returned to him. Instead of black onyx, the stone set within this one was a soft, glowing gold, one that matched her feathers perfectly. He pressed it into her hand and said, "I've told everyone that I'll announce my pick as Naga in two days, the day after your coronation. Do you think you could be back here so soon for the announcement?"

Maka's head spun. Oh, gods, she'd have to come back here, stand in front of his people as he declared her his pair bond. "If I announce that you're my alistair after the coronation, I'll have the title of Tuuli Thea behind me. My mother and my guards certainly won't be happy, but they won't be able to go against me." Kami certainly wouldn't be happy if she delayed choosing her alistair, but Maka would manage it. She'd have to. That, and convincing Azusa to hold off just a few more days…

"What about you?" Maka asked. "How will your people react?"

Soul leaned back on his heels as he mulled it over. "Well, they're not going to be happy about it, that's for sure. Some might think you've tricked me with avian magic-"

Maka opened her mouth to protest, but Soul shot her a look. "Like you don't have your own superstitions about what we can do." He made a fair point. Maka nodded in acknowledgment and he continued.

"Regardless of what they do think, they won't be able to do anything about it. Anyone who tries to defy you or your guards would have to face punishment, so they won't be eager to pick a fight."

 _That didn't mean no one would try_ , Maka thought, but she kept it to herself. "I need to get back before anyone goes looking for me," she said, making to stand. Soul backed away, and Maka slowly rose, stretching out sore and bruised limbs.

"Could you be here around noon in two days' time?" Soul asked. "That'll give you some time to prepare for the announcement here."

The announcement where Soul would present her as Naga to his people, who would most certainly not take the news well. Maka pushed the thought away and nodded. "I can do that."

She could, she told herself, and did her best to ignore the small voice in the back of her head asking what she had really gotten herself into.


	5. Chapter Four

It was well past dusk by the time Maka made it back to the Keep, and Black*Star was already waiting for her as she touched down onto the balcony. 'Where have you been?" he demanded.

Maka drew up the excuse she'd crafted on the flight back. "You know I mentioned the possibility of an alternate plan today." Black*Star's eyes widened in recognition. "I was finalizing the details of it today. I didn't mention it because I don't want to jeopardize anything. Tell the other flight leaders to stand down - if they make a move before everything's set into place, they could destroy everything I've worked out." That, at least, was the truth. And she'd manage to spin it in a way that Black*Star would never guess what her actual plan was.

"You're sure about this?" was all he asked.

Maka almost wanted to laugh at the question. Was she sure? Absolutely not. But everything _had_ already been set into motion, and all she could do now was try to see it through. "Yes," she said. "Tell them to stand down."

He nodded and left the room. Maka dressed down and climbed into bed, but there were too many worries and anxieties for sleep to truly claim her.

The next day's ceremony, for all the weeks of preparations leading up to it, was a relatively simple affair. A large dias had been erected at the center of the Keep, and the courtyards had filled to the brim with people from all corners of avian land, come to celebrate the crowning of their new Tuuli Thea. Kami approached the edge of the dias, lifting her voice so that it carried far over the heads of everyone there. She spoke of Maka's strength and wisdom and hope, though Maka barely heard them, so loud was the dread that creeped through every thought. Dread not for assuming the title she had been born into, but for the decision she had made the day before: _I am doing the right thing?_

Kami lifted the necklace she wore high - a hawk in flight, wings spread wide to embrace the sky. She settled it upon Maka's own neck, where it sat just above the pendant Blair had given her, a hawk flying from its nest.

And then it was Maka's turn to address her people. She recited the words she had practiced ad nauseum in the days leading up to this, trying her best to fill them with hope and optimism, yet remaining realistic regarding the everyday burden of the war. It was a difficult balance to strike.

Out of the corner of her eye, Maka saw Kami frown as she finished, having made no reference to her selection of alistair. Not unrealistic, but unexpected. She said nothing, however, as Sid Barret, the head of her mother's guard, kneeled before Maka. He recited the words he had said to her mother years ago. "To my Tuuli Thea goes my trust, my blade, my blood, my strength, my loyalty, and my life. Here I swear they belong to her, forevermore."

Maka thought her shoulders might cave from the weight of those words. All these people, all their lives… her responsibility. Hers to guide and lead the best she could.

She prayed she would be enough.

One after another, each member of the Royal Flight kneeled before her and took the vow, all swearing their allegiance to their new Tuuli Thea. At last, Black*Star came before her. There was a question in his eyes as he kneeled, a question Maka read easily, but had no easy answer for. "To my Tuuli Thea goes my trust, my blade, my blood, my strength, my loyalty, and my life. Here I swear they belong to her, forevermore." He looked up at her as he finished, and Maka could hardly bear to meet his gaze. All the secrecy, all the sneaking around… she reminded herself that she was doing the best for her people, for Black*Star, so that no one else might leave for battle and never return.

There was a reception after the ceremony, but the hours of celebration passed by in whirlwind. Courtiers passed by Maka in an endless blur, each offering their congratulations. Maka was half-tempted to shake them and ask if they would be feeling so felicitous if they knew what Maka had done, what she had promised. Their words of praise sounded harsh to Maka's ear, knowing as she did that they would shrivel up and disappear in few days' time.

Finally, Kami found her, and stated the question Maka had been preparing for. "You did not name your alistair."

"You remember at the war council when I spoke of a plan alternative to direct attack?"

Kami nodded.

"It only seemed right to me that my announcement of alistair should also carry with it an announcement of peace. I plan to usher in a new era where Soul Evans is not our enemy. On that day, I will name my alistair."

Kami's eyes widened in surprise. "What is your plan."

Maka shook her head. "Give me three days. I will announce my alistair in front of the court, but not before then."

Kami wanted to argue, Maka saw it in her eyes, but she no longer had the authority to demand that Maka submit. It chafed at her a little, Maka could tell, but Kami only inclined her head in concession and let the matter drop.

Hours later, Maka managed to escape the bustling courtyards and retreat to the solitary safety of her room. She changed out of Blair's exquisite black silk gown and stepped onto the balcony to watch the distant trees dance gently with the midnight wind.

She knew he was there before she heard him, but didn't turn around. "I know today didn't go how you expected it."

"I didn't expect anything." Black*Star came to stand next to her by the railing.

Maka bit her lip. "I know what the others say, what everyone has been whispering about for years. Ever since Derik died…" She trailed off and sighed.

"It doesn't matter what everyone else says," Black*Star said. "And it's never mattered to you anyway. Why start now?"

 _Because their lives are in my hands now._

Maka didn't realize that she'd spoken aloud until Black*Star replied, "And there are no more capable ones to be found anywhere."

"You say that now," Maka said, and Black*Star huffed a small laugh in reply. She wondered what he'd say if he knew it wasn't a joke.

"Whatever you choose, Maka," Black*Star said softly, "regarding your alistair, or anything else… I trust your judgement."

"Shows what you know," she muttered.

Black*Star shifted his weight, leaning one elbow on the railing as he turned to face her. "Hey, I'm the commander of your Royal Flight, after all. Means I know everything." He winked at her.

"Everything except how to block my roundhouse," Maka teased, her spirits lifting just a little.

"Oh come on, you know I let you have those. Can't go around beating up the crown heir all the time."

Maka scoffed indignantly. "You have never just 'let' me do anything!"

"Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that." He stood and stretched. "I've got to go on patrol now, but just shout if you need me." He peered down to look her in the eyes. "Are you okay now?"

Maka nodded after a beat. "I'm better. Thank you, Black*Star."

He tossed off a jaunty salute as he walked backwards into her room. "My pleasure."

As the door shut behind him, silence fell into the room once more, but it didn't seem quite oppressive as it had before. Maka let it settle around her as she climbed into bed, and sleep soon came for her.

* * *

Maka woke early the next morning with a knot in her stomach and tension in her neck. Yesterday's ceremony had been relatively easy compared to what lay before her today.

She rose and contemplated her wardrobe, unsure of what to wear to become Naga of the serpiente court. A flash of color in the corner caught her eye, and Maka drew it out and lay it across her bed to examine it. It was a dress of deep burgundy with gold thread shimmering throughout, a perfect match to the feathers that grew at the base of her neck. The back dipped low in the back, to allow for her wings to grow forth if she required skirts were full and the rich color reminded her of the tones she'd glimpsed in the serpiente court the other day. It may not have been a serpiente dress, but Maka was not either. This would be the best she could do.

But when Maka picked it up, she discovered that it would not be quite so simple as to dress and simply disappear. The dress was much more complicated than she had anticipated, and would require another to help her.

An offhand comment from weeks previously drifted through Maka's mind then, and she quickly sent a messenger out with her request. Several minutes later, there was a quiet knock on the door, and Maka bid Blair to enter.

"You called for me?" she asked.

"I need a favor. More than one, possibly."

"Of course."

"I've been negotiating with the serpiente," she said carefully, and though Blair looked surprised, she made no comment. "The Royal Flight doesn't know, and I'm trying to keep it that way. I need to finalize something today, but if they notice I'm missing before then-"

"I thought you would be attending market today," Blair said innocently. "It's a Festival day, after all, and everyone knows you never miss Festival."

"Blair, that's perfect," Maka breathed. "They shouldn't expect to see me until tomorrow. But just in case-"

"If you're not back by sunrise, I'll be sure to tell Black*Star where you are."

Maka nodded. "Thank you."

Blair's gaze fell onto the dress spread out across the bed. "I take it your second favor involves that?"

Maka smiled sheepishly. "If you wouldn't mind."

If Blair wondered why Maka required such a ceremonial dress to visit the serpiente, she didn't ask. She worked quickly, and it was merely a matter of minutes before Maka was dressed and prepared to leave. "Thank you again, Blair."

Blair smiled. "Good luck."

Before Maka left, she quickly penned a letter to Black*Star and left it on the trunk at the foot of her bed. It outlined the plans Maka had made, as well as details regarding her whereabouts and intentions for that day. _You may come find me, if you want_ , it said, _but you understand that you cannot come seeking a fight. I have arranged all this so we might finally have peace, and none of can afford for that to be disrupted. I'm not entirely certain when the ceremony will end, but I will return when I can._

Maka's reception at the serpiente palace was much warmer than it had been before, but that wasn't saying much. She was met by a pair of female guards who led her silently through the meandering halls until they reached the hall where she'd met Soul. As they walked, Maka wondered a little more about the palace, and what she might find should she wander down any of the side halls. Considering what she was about to do, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that she might one day find out.

The heavy wooden doors of the hall swung open silently, revealing a pacing Soul and Camille and Eloise Evans sat at a large table in the center of the room. Soul dismissed the guards and waved Maka inside. "You remember my mother, Eloise," he said. "And my half-sister, Camille."

"It's nice to meet you officially," Maka said, nodding at them.

Camille smiled, but Eloise managed to look down her nose even while seated. "I've heard a great many things about you," she said, heavily implying that some of the things she'd heard were not necessarily complimentary. Maka tried to remind herself that they were likely just as unsure about this as she was, but she did notice Soul shoot his mother a slightly exasperated look.

"Should I expect the Royal Flight to be kicking down our doors any minute?" he asked instead, deflecting attention.

Maka shook her head. "They won't expect me back until morning, but they'll know where I am then."

The doors to the hall opened a crack, enough for Anya to poke her head through. "Soul, you're needed for a moment."

Soul's eyebrows shot up. "Am I really? What could the guard possibly need with me right now?"

Anya's stare turned venomous, as though she held Maka personally responsible for Soul's reluctance. "I need to speak with you, please," she said through gritted teeth.

"Then speak." Soul waved a hand openly.

The silence that followed was one of the most awkward Maka had ever endured. Finally, Camille stood and whispered something in Soul's ear, gave him a meaningful look, and pushed him towards the door. "Just go talk to her," she said. "Mother and I can prepare Maka."

Soul paused, shot Maka a look she couldn't interpret, then left the room, the door closing with some finality behind him.

"Well." Camille huffed a breath and put her hands on her hips. "I don't envy him right now."

Eloise sniffed, smoothing out nonexistent wrinkles in her dress. "She has a right to be upset, you know."

"I never said she didn't," Camille said. "But there's nothing she can do about it now."

Maka looked between them. "I think I'm missing something."

Eloise looked at her in a way that suggested there were several things Maka was missing, and she wondered how someone could so perfectly convey such complex thoughts with just one expression. Camille, however, took pity on her and explained, "There was… something of an understanding with Anya. She hasn't been afraid to make her feelings on this arrangement known."

Maka's eyes lingered on the doors to the hall. If Soul's guards, the ones most loyal to him and his throne, were this opposed to the pairing… she could only imagine how his people as a whole would react.

Camille must have caught wind of some of her thoughts, because she gestured for Maka to join her at the table. "We're all trying to wrap our heads around this," she said. "It's just taking longer for some of us."

Maka nodded, and Camille turned to the matter at hand. "Now, today's ceremony will take place in the synkal - our public meeting place where every event like this is held. Soul may not be as popular as Wes was," she swallowed hard at the memory of her half-brother, but continued on before the pause could linger, "but there's a lot of whispers going around about Soul's selection for Naga, so it's going to be full today. Initially, you'll be separated from everyone, but as a part of the ceremony, you will be expected to walk among them."

Walk freely among the largest gathering of serpiente she'd ever seen? Without any of her guards there to look after her? Maka felt a little faint at the prospect.

"There's no getting out of this," Camille said, making sure to look Maka in the eye. "I don't know how it is with avians, but serpiente rulers are supposed to meet with their people, to walk with them, to be open and personable. You will have to walk among them, but there aren't any weapons allowed in the synkal, and you'll have Soul's guards with you. You'll be safe from any unhappy zealots."

Maka was sure she'd already broken out into a cold sweat. This was too much, this was more than she'd bargained for… but hadn't Soul agreed to the exact same thing? He'd have to come to the Keep in a few days, surround himself with just as many avians who would likely look at him the same way the serpiente outside would look at her. How could she ask that of him if she was unwilling to do the same?

"The guards will look out for anyone likely to start trouble, but…" Camille looked to Eloise, as though debating her words.

"Our kind do not accept political marriages, or matches made for any other reason outside of love and affection," Eloise said flatly. "If our people sense that Soul is happy, that he chose you out of love and his own free will… well, they might not like it, but they'll accept it. If, however…"

Camille picked up again. "From what we understand, it's very different for you. Some amount of distance and formality is expected in every aspect of your life. But that isn't how it is for us. Rulers are open and friendly with their people, expected to show every emotion they feel. It's something that, to be honest, Soul has struggled with."

Eloise shot Camille a sharp look, but was swiftly ignored. "I'm only telling you this because he's not going to ask anything of you, but that could be dangerous for you not to. You will have to convince our people that this is a match of love, not convenience, or they will never accept you."

Maka's mouth went dry, her hands fidgeting anxiously in her lap. It was one thing to agree to marry Soul to broker peace, another thing entirely to pretend that the arrangement was something entirely other than what it was. But if the consequences for not doing so were this severe…

"Some fear might be expected," Camille continued. "You are, after all, standing up in front of a people your kind has warred with for centuries. But I think some will think you brave, as well. Especially if we tell them that you haven't even let your own people know, and that you're committing to this without their approval. That you're willing to stand up in front of them before you've convinced your own people to accept this."

Maka finally found her voice, though it came out hoarser than she would've liked. "But I haven't done that."

Camille waved a hand. "Even better. If we can present this match the way we want to, as a story of star-crossed lovers, then our people should be able to accept it."

"What - what should I do?"

"Get closer to him than five feet," Eloise said bluntly. "You'll need to stay by his side, touch his arm - you know, things any young lovers might do."

"Mother," Camille chastised.

"I'm only telling her what would be expected," Eloise defended.

"No, I understand," Maka said. She ran her hands over her lap, trying to smooth out the wrinkles she's put into it while gripping the fabric. "I appreciate your honesty." She looked Eloise in the eye and said, "You're correct, this is a different way of life than I'm used to. But war is also a lifestyle I've grown up used to, and it's one that I'm trying to move me and my people out of. If that means taking on a little discomfort, then that's fine by me."

Something a little like respect glinted in Eloise's eyes. "When Lord Death suggested this idea, I was horrified. I could not contemplate such a possibility, but you and Soul…" She shook her head. "I do recognize your bravery, Maka, I do. To come here, to be willing to bind yourself to the heir of your enemy… I do not think it is a sacrifice I could make."

What could Maka say to that? The only thing she could think of was, "This choice, to end the years of fighting and bloodshed? I would make it again in a heartbeat."

And strangely, despite all that she had heard and all that would be expected to her today, the words had never tasted truer.

* * *

Maka felt a little differently about those words two hours later.

Her stomach churned so heavily it made her a little dizzy. How could she walk out there, onto a dias that looked not too dissimilar to the one she'd been crowned Tuuli Thea on, in front of hundreds of serpiente who would surely rather see her dead than Naga. And the only ones between her and them would be guards sworn to protect Soul - not Maka.

This felt less like a leap of faith and more like a plunge off the side of a cliff, with no end in sight.

The cue she'd been told to wait for came, and before she could rethink her decision any more, she stepped out of the antechamber she'd been waiting in and onto the raised speaking platform, where Soul had just been addressing his people. She heard the crowd before she truly saw them - their shouts, their whispered questions - but the loudest sound of all was the shocked silence.

Soul's hand was reaching out to gesture to her, to urge her forward, and though she knew he wasn't expecting her to take it, she did anyway, if only to keep hers from visibly shaking. He looked startled for a moment, but there was barely any hiccup in his speech, which Maka could barely even hear through the panicked buzz filling her head. She tucked herself into his side, another support to try and keep her grounded. Finally, Soul finished with, "Allow me to introduce you all to my Naga, Maka Albarn."

The guards, scattered throughout the crowd and placed strategically around the dias, were the first to kneel. As they had all been introduced to her earlier, they had been expecting this surprising announcement, and there was no hesitation to their movements.

Their actions seemed to remind the others gathered of what was expected, and soon the rest of the synkal followed their lead - except for a few who remained standing.

One of them, an older man, simply stared in shock. "Arthur?" Soul asked, and at the sound of his name, the man looked around, looking even more startled that he was one of the few left upright.

"But - but she's a hawk!"

Soul looked back to Maka, scanning her up and down with amusement. "Is she really? I must confess I hadn't noticed." Despite his playful tone, Maka though she heard a tension there she couldn't quite explain, thought she saw something a little forced in his eyes. But in the next moment, it seemed to disappear, and Maka reminded herself that for all the negotiation they'd done, she'd actually spent very little time in Soul's company. She was fooling herself if she thought she could read him at all.

As Soul spoke, another serpiente kneeled, leaving only three standing.

"Soul," Maka said, her voice pitched low enough that only he could hear her. "Not everyone is going to accept this."

Soul turned his face closer to her, and it suddenly struck Maka how they must look to everyone. Her cheeks burned, but she forced herself to remain steady and tucked into his side. "I know," he replied. "But if we allow a few to openly reject it, that opens the door for others."

As he pulled back, his lips just barely brushed her forehead - the tender gesture of a young king in love. One of the three knelt, leaving only Arthur and a younger woman. "Arthur, if this is jealousy speaking, Maka's not the only beautiful hawk out there." He reached a careful hand up and brushed a stray hair out of Maka's face. She almost wanted to roll her eyes at his theatricality. Soul must have caught the intent on her face, because his lips twitched as he turned back. "You're welcome to find your own."

"This is insane," the woman cried, looking back and forth between them. "Soul, you can't be serious."

"You're right, Gen, it is," Soul said, his tone still light. "To think that Maka was willing to leave the safety of her home, to walk into the synkal despite the wishes of her family and her people, to be willing to sacrifice everything to be my Naga…" He lifted their intertwined hands to his mouth, making sure that it only appeared as though he kissed her skin. His words and expression bled with sincerity, and coupled with his continued respect for her personal boundaries, despite the charade they had to put on… Maka was oddly touched.

When they turned back, Gen was fighting back a smile. The tale Soul and Camille had decided to spin seemed to be working. Gen dropped to one knee, and a moment after, Arthur followed suit. Maka wasn't foolish enough to think everyone had accepted the match outright, but it was encouraging to see a lack of open rejection.

A flicker of movement near the back of the synkal drew Maka's eye. Anya ducked between two guards stationed near the back of the hall and out the door. Aryn watched her go, shook his head, and resumed his scan of the crowd.

Soul pulled away from Maka, but kept their hands entwined as he presented her to the crowd. "Naga Maka Albarn," he said. "Your people."

The full meaning of his words hit her as she took in the crowd still kneeling before her. This marriage - they were truly uniting their peoples. His would become hers, and hers would become his.

He stepped forward, and the stillness was broken. There was a flurry of movement as all who were kneeling stood. Two guards came up to flank them as Soul led her to the edge of the dias and the stairs that led down into the throngs of people that filled the synkal. They stepped down, and all at once Maka was surrounded by her new people.

What struck her first was how differently the serpiente moved. Like liquid silk, spilling from one motion into another with a graceless effort. They crowded against one another, ducking past one and slipping around another. Everywhere she looked there was another person, looking to greet Soul and give Maka a calculating, chilly stare. Some dared to reach out to her, perhaps curious of the feathers they saw peeking from her hair, but Soul always managed to catch them before they could, coldly reminding those that forgot that Maka was avian lady unaccustomed to casual touching.

"She seems to accept touches from you," one countered skeptically, eyeing the hand Soul had constantly been keeping at her elbow.

"Because she's my Naga," Soul said slowly. "I should hope she'd accept my touch."

The group around them laughed, and after a brief pause, the man who spoken joined in. "Fair enough," he said, the the group melted away, only to be replaced by another who wished a closer glimpse of their new Naga.

Soul seemed to know exactly how to handle each and every serpiente who approached them, his countenance shifting back and forth faster than he could assume his serpent form. Playful, serious, diplomatic, melodramatic… the changes seemed effortless. But the longer they stayed within the crowd, the more and more that approached, the more it seemed to wear on him. The changes were difficult to notice, but his shoulders began to droop, the creases under his eyes became more pronounced, and his gestures became a little more lackluster. He was certainly able to play the part of warm, engaging ruler, but it didn't look like it came easily to him.

Finally, hours after Maka had first stepped out onto the dias, the crowds thinned, and the ceremony shifted from a reception to a late night feast. Everyone took their places, Maka grateful for the chance to sit and rest her aching legs. Soul, too, seemed thankful for the slight reprieve.

The rest would only be physical, however, for as soon as they sat down, one of the serpents a few seats down from Soul asked, "Where's Anya tonight? It's unusual to see you here without her."

Soul's gaze darkened, then cleared in a split second. "I'm afraid she wasn't feeling too well," he lied smoothly. "She's retired for the evening and Aryn has taken over her watch."

"Will Aryn lead Maka's guard, then?" another asked.

Soul shook his head. "The Royal Flight will continue to serve Maka, as they always have."

Someone choked on their drink, but no one paid any heed as all eyes turned to Soul. "Are you serious?" someone asked. "You can't let them into the palace!"

"Why not?" Soul asked evenly, but there was an edge to his voice that hadn't been there before. "Maka is Naga, and entitled to her own guards."

"And we're just supposed to let an entire flock invade the palace?" a serpent scoffed. "I can't-"

Soul rounded on the man speaking, his gaze so forceful that the man's words died in his throat. "You're certainly welcome to take whatever actions you see fit to deal with it," he said coldly. "Only be aware that I will be forced to take actions that I see fit, namely, charging you with treason and bringing down the punishment suitable for a crime of that nature."

All the blood had drained from the man's face. "Of course," he said shakily. "I didn't mean - I wasn't-"

"I'm sure you weren't," Soul said calmly, taking a sip of wine. "Now, unless anyone else wishes to protest, I believe we have a meal to eat."

The meal was rather uneventful after that, with lighter topics tossed around as every guest ate their fill. It was almost dawn by the time Soul and Maka took their leave and he led her out the synkal and back into the palace. Maka was so tired she gave no notice of where he was leading her. They'd decided earlier that it would be a bad idea for Maka to go back to the Keep immediately after the ceremony, and she was thankful for it now - if she'd tried to fly home when she was this tired, she'd likely fall right out of the sky. As it was, she had to lean partially on Soul as they walked, and she thought that maybe he had to do the same.

They entered one of the many rooms of Soul's suite where Maka was to stay that night. Sleeping clothes were laid out on the bed. Maka held them up to her and was surprised to find that they were her size exactly. When she asked Soul how he knew what would fit her, he only shrugged and said, "From Blair."

Maka gaped at him. "Blair?"

"Of course."

Maka remembered how quickly Blair had agreed to help the day before, how she'd been the only one to bring up that day with Wes on the killing fields, and the surprise seemed to fade as quickly as it had come.

"Um… she did mention that the dress can be a little unwieldy," Soul said, a dusting of pink coloring his cheeks. He shifted his weight from side to side in a nervous gesture. "Do you need help?"

Suddenly he wasn't the only one blushing. Blair was right, of course, but Maka wasn't about to let Soul assist her the way Blair did. "Only with the tie at the top," she said. "I can manage the rest."

She turned around, her breath catching in her chest as she heard Soul's quiet footsteps cross the carpet. His fingers brushed against the back of her neck gently, pausing as they reached the feathers there. The tie loosened, and Maka managed to slide the nightgown over herself as she stepped out of the dress, ever conscious of Soul behind her.

Maka folded the dress and stored it away, but when she turned back around, Soul was still there. He opened his mouth to say something, but seemed to think better of it. "Good night," he said, then turned for the doors leading deeper into his suite.

Camille's warning from earlier that day - or yesterday, now - echoed in her head, and Maka stepped forward, one hand reaching out. "Wait-"

Soul paused, one hand on the door. "Yes?"

"Camille said…" She trailed off, unsure how to ask the question. "Your people need to think this is a love match, right?"

Soul's expression clouded. "Maka, I'm not going to-"

Maka held up a hand to cut him off. "I know you're not. That's not what I'm saying. But if your guards learn that you spent tonight in your own room, and they spread word of that… it could jeopardize everything we've worked for."

From the look on Soul's face, he knew she had a point, and yet he still looked torn.

"We're both exhausted and could use the rest. Just… stay here for tonight. Just sleep."

Soul thought about it for a moment longer. Finally, his shoulders slumped in acceptance, and he let go of the door. Maka turned away, her face still burning at the words she'd spoken - true, but no less embarrassing. She avoided looking at him as she climbed into the bed, which was piled high with the softest pillows and blankets she'd ever felt. Settling in, sleep began to creep over her almost immediately. Vaguely, she heard the rustling of fabric and felt the bed dip as Soul climbed in beside her, though it was large enough that they didn't touch. Soul stretched, his arm brushing up against Maka's shoulder. After such a long day filled with more touch than she'd experienced for years at the Keep, her nerves were overexposed and frayed, and so she flinched involuntarily at the contact.

Soul must have felt her tense because he moved away quickly, before Maka could apologize or explain. She might have spent a moment to feel guilty, but she was too tired, and sleep was too alluring.


	6. Chapter Five

The first thing Maka became aware of was a warm and heavy weight resting against her side. The second was the shift of soft, silky fabric, and the third was the weight moving away, leaving behind a cold, empty space.

She opened her eyes slowly, a little unsure of where she was at first. Then the memories of the previous day crashed over her all at once, and Maka almost wanted to close her eyes again and push back the inevitable fallout just a little while longer.

Maka had pledged herself as pair bond to Soul Evans. Who was currently lying right next to her.

She turned her head just so until she could see his burst of white hair contrasted sharply against the pillow, his limbs sprawled out carelessly in slumber. There was a peace on his face Maka had yet to see when he was awake, and it struck her again how much time he must spend wearing a mask, that he looked so drastically different now.

It was a peace Maka didn't wish to disturb, or perhaps she didn't want to see the change on his face when he realized who slept beside him. Whatever the reason, she moved as quietly as possible to avoid disturbing him. She crossed the room and found a dressing gown in the wardrobe, which she shrugged on and tied around her waist. When she turned back, Soul was sitting up and watching her with a gaze far too penetrating.

"Morning," he said, his voice scratchy with sleep. He stretched languidly. Maka's eyes darted around the room, unsure of where to rest. This entire moment felt too private, like something she'd stumbled upon by accident. She'd always had the opportunity to prepare herself, to gather her thoughts before the day began, but here and now, she'd been thrown headfirst into something entirely new, and though she'd known a little of what she'd been getting into, she found herself still entirely unprepared.

So she fell back on what she knew. She retreated into the depths of her own mind, reeling back the uncertainty, the fear, the doubt that was creeping in. Even the cautious hope, the small flower blooming in her chest from the relative success of yesterday's ceremony - she gathered hold of it all, and wrapped it up in a neat little bundle for her to examine later. When she looked back, the familiar facade of calm and poise was once again in place, but what she found had it slipping almost as soon as she'd donned it.

Soul's face had shuttered, that sleepy, peaceful expression suddenly gone, and in its place was something hard and unreadable. "There it is again," he said quietly.

"What is?"

"Every time I think I'm about to see what you really feel, you lock it away, and all that's left is that aloof queen we've feared for years. Hiding behind that damn mask." He looked down at his lap. "I know I have no right to ask this - hell, I'm the last person on earth who should - but you need to give me something. You enter a room and it's like a statue has found its way inside."

There were many, many things to address about that statement, but Maka somehow latched on the least important. "What do you mean, you're the last person who should ask that?" She knew the answer, or thought she knew, but wanted to hear it from him.

"I think you've noticed by now how open and free the serpiente are with their emotion," Soul said, meeting her gaze once more. "Whatever they feel, they show."

"They. Not you?"

Soul gave her a self-deprecating smile and a shrug. "Something my brother was better at than me, I'm afraid. I have never been one to broadcast what I feel, but to have a ruler so closed off… it's not exactly encouraging to them. I never thought I'd have to overcome that particular problem, but Wes died, and all of a sudden I'm left to fill his entirely-too-charismatic shoes." He shrugged again. "It's not easy for me. And yet I'm asking you to open up a little. For me."

Maka chuckled wryly and shook her head. "I think we were born into the wrong societies." To answer Soul's questioning head tilt, she continued, "In avian society, it's frowned upon to show strong emotion - it's seen as disrespectful, a loss of control. We're taught from birth to keep everything stowed away, to let no one see what we feel." She hesitated, then added, "It's something that doesn't come easily for me, either."

"I wondered if that was the case when you yelled at me in your room," Soul said. "It was why I started thinking this could work. For the first time, I saw what you really thought and felt, and I knew for certain that you wanted this as much as I did."

Maka hadn't exactly known he was real and truly there at the time, so it likely didn't count, but she decided not to press the issue. "You must understand," she said quietly, wrapping her arms around herself, "that it will not be easy for me. Whatever my inclinations may be, I have been raised to bury any and all strong emotion, to keep myself in control before making any decisions. Asking me to throw that aside… it's a lot to ask of me."

Soul was quiet for a long moment as he weighed her words, a gesture Maka appreciated. "I understand," he said finally. "And you likely know that it will be difficult for me to do the same as well. But I do truly believe that this alliance between us, and by extension, our peoples, is destined to fail if we do not agree to extend a little trust to the other."

Privately, Maka thought she'd extended more than a little by coming here and walking freely among his people, but shoved the thought away. She nodded. "I'll try."

Soul tilted his head in acceptance. "That's all I'm asking."

Before either of them could say anything else, there was a commotion outside the chamber doors. Maka seized instinctively at the collar of her dressing it gown, pulling it further across her body. Soul, while still startled, moved at a more unhurried pace, pulling a plain white shirt from the armoire and pulling it on just as a heavy knock sounded at the door. Neither had time to respond as the door to the room burst open.

Anya stuck her head in the room, her lip curling in disgust as she caught sight of Maka in her dressing gown and Soul still slightly disheveled from dressing. However, she only said, "Apologies for the disturbance, but there's a bird out here demanding to see your Naga." She nodded to Maka, and never had the motion felt so dismissive. "He's making quite the fuss, and since we're not allowed to touch him…" The tone of her voice did plenty to show just what she thought of that.

"Black*Star," Maka murmured. The reality of what she'd done the day before crashed upon her once again, revealing yet another unsavory task she'd have to complete as a result - breaking the news to Black*Star.

Anya nodded. "You'd better come quickly, before he tries to fight his way in here. I won't be held responsible for what happens if he does."

Maka and Soul finished dressing, Soul in the adjoining room, while Anya waited outside. A few minutes later, all three were striding quickly down the hall and soon were at the reception hall Maka had been inside so many times.

Black*Star was pacing up and down the center of the hall, but when he saw Maka, all the tension seemed to rush from him at once. He hurried over, the gaze sweeping over her a familiar one. Once he was sure she was uninjured, he stepped back. "Thank the skies, Maka," he said heavily. "Blair gave me your letter, but I had to see… what on earth are you doing here? I know you mentioned-" He stilled quickly as he finally caught sight of Soul standing behind Maka and off to the side. "If I could speak with my Tuuli Thea alone." His tone sounded forced -diplomacy was not among Black*Star's many skills.

Soul nodded, beckoning silently to Anya as he retreated. "I'll be across the hall," he told Maka, and with that, they were alone.

"What's going on, Maka?" Black*Star looked like he wanted nothing more than to grab Maka by the shoulders and shake her, but it was only through great restraint that he did not. "What are you doing here? Do you have a death wish?"

Maka laughed hollowly. "Just the opposite, in fact. I'm doing what I've always done - trying to end this war. And it's working, at least in part, can't you see? Why do you think they let you in? You're here because Soul allowed it - why would he do that unless he was just as willing to make peace as I am?"

Black*Star shook his head. "Maka-"

"No, you _listen_ to me," Maka said forcefully. Black*Star blinked, startled, and shut his mouth. "I know what I'm doing," she said, despite the part of her that wondered if that was wholly true. "I know the risks, and yet I'm still here. I have gone through every possible scenario, and every possible plan, and yet _I am still here_. I have walked among them, the entire serpiente people, and I am fine. I spoke with them, ate with them, and nothing has befallen me. They're trying," she said quietly, "like I am."

Black*Star searched her face, some part of him still uncomprehending. "You weren't lying in your letter," he said hollowly. "You really did it. You've tied yourself to him."

Maka's throat went dry at the distress on his face. She could only nod at his question.

He ran a frustrated hand through his hair. "Skies, Maka. Of all the things you've done…" He trailed off, leaving the sentence unfinished. "What about you?"

"What about me?"

"I know you, Maka. You throw yourself headlong into things, sometimes without hardly thinking of what might happen to you. You say you've considered the risks of this plan, but have you thought of the risks to yourself? There's a reason our kinds don't get along." He threw a poisonous look at the door over Maka's shoulder, as though he could see Soul waiting on the other side.

"I will do whatever it takes for my people, damn the consequences," Maka said heatedly. The fire burned out almost as quickly as it came. Her knees wobbled under her, and for a moment she felt achingly tired, despite the early hour. "'Star, I need your support," she said quietly. "I know our people are different - I'm not that foolish. And I know that I'm taking some enormous risks here. But I'm willing to take them if it means no one else dies. You may not agree with my decision, but if I have to go through this alone… I need you to stand with me on this. Please."

Black*Star swallowed hard, his eyes softening. "Dammit, Maka. I know that look. Nothing I can say will turn you from your course, so… yes, I'll support you in this. I won't like it, but I'll stand by your side."

Maka didn't know how much those words would mean to her until she heard them. "Thank you, 'Star."

He sighed. "You're going to announce him as your alistair tomorrow, aren't you?"

Maka nodded.

"Then I'd recommend keeping this under wraps for as long as possible. Bring him into the Keep secretly, with as few guards knowing as possible. I'll keep the Royal Flight in check, and no one in court will make a scene in public." He shook his head again. "They're not going to like it, but there isn't much you can do about that. But they might follow you if they see how determined you are to keep any more of them from dying." He grimaced. "I hope."

And this is why Maka had needed him. Facing her court without someone by her side supporting her decision was unimaginable.

"I hate to say it, but the Royal Flight might be your biggest obstacle. Many of them would rather lay down their lives than see a cobra by your side. To the extent that some may feel comfortable going against your orders."

"That's what you're for, isn't it?" Maka attempted a cheeky smile, but knew she's failed miserably at it.

Thankfully, Black*Star ignored her. "Your mother isn't going to like this."

"My mother is not Tuuli Thea," Maka said sharply.

He raised his hands in supplication. "I know that, and she knows that. She's moved into an alternate suite, opening up the Tuuli Thea's chambers for you. The Royal Flight will have a hard time guarding both you and her if I have to assign a guard to Soul to protect him from them as well."

"There are side rooms attached to the suite, correct?" At Black*Star's nod, Maka continued with the plan she'd thought up on the flight over here the day before. "There's only one way in or out, so it will be relatively easy to guard the both of us."

"It also puts you closest to Soul if he decides to change his mind on this whole peace thing," Black*Star pointed out. At Maka's sharp look, he added, "And if someone decides to go after him - I'm only trying to think out all options."

"If he wanted me dead, he probably would have done it the half dozen times we've been alone," Maka snapped. "Putting him in the Tuuli Thea's chambers makes the most sense and you know it; it's the most heavily guarded place in the Keep."

"I'm not saying you're wrong, was just pointing out a few points, that's all," Black*Star muttered. "Well, if we're moving today, I've got a few guards stationed in the woods outside who can escort Soul to the Keep so the rest of the Flight doesn't kill him on sight. I might send Ox ahead beforehand; he's one of the ones I'm wary about. I'll talk to him and the others when we get back." He ran a hand through his hair and down his face again. "I'd like you to at least note that I object to this plan very much."

"Noted and ignored."

"Well, so long as you're aware." Black*Star sighed. "Well, let's get your Prince Charming on the road."

"'Star!"

"What? You're the one who married him."

 _Oh, this is gonna end well._

* * *

Despite Black*Star's reassurances that he would personally see to it that Soul made it to the Keep in one piece, Maka could not help but worry all through the flight back to the Keep. If Ox, whom Black*Star had sent to accompany Maka in the air, wondered why Black*Star and the rest were staying behind, he didn't bring it up. He did, however, pick up on Maka's anxiety and kept sending her concerned looks - or, he did so as much as an osprey could look concerned mid-flight. He might have asked, had he the capability, or he might have left his Tuuli Thea to her own thoughts. Whatever might have been, the flight was long and quiet.

They arrived back at the Keep around late morning. Soul and Black*Star, traveling on horseback as they were, would likely not arrive until evening at the earliest. The hours spent waiting were filled with pacing and nervous imagining - what if a fight had broken out, and this tentative peace Maka had been trying to weave was ripped apart before it even began? What if the guards went against orders and decided to take things into their own hands?

What if Soul had changed his mind?

Maka had just retreated to her rooms after dinner, barely taking in the new suite that was to be her residence for the foreseeable future, when a knock sounded at the door. Black*Star, looking travel worn, slipped inside. "Everyone's back and safe. We're putting Soul in a set of rooms in the back corner now. Your mother's been keeping to her own rooms so she hasn't spotted him yet, at least."

But that would change once Maka made her announcement tomorrow. Everything would.

"Are you alright?" Black*Star asked, brow furrowed.

Maka didn't know the answer to that. _Yes_ was a blatant lie, and _No_ seemed far too simple. Everything she'd worked for would come to a head once she presented Soul to her people, and she would have to deal with the fallout, whatever it was. "I'm nervous," she finally admitted. "And scared."

Black*Star stepped forward, and in a rare gesture, took her hands in his own. "I know I've argued against this and made my position clear," he said, "but I still support you, in the end. Whatever road you choose to take us down, I trust you. So maybe give yourself a little more credit. After all, I don't just put my faith in anyone."

Maka screwed her face up. "I can't tell if you're genuinely trying to cheer me up or turning this into something about you."

Black*Star cracked a grin, and something in Maka's chest loosened. "Eh, take it how you want it." He sobered a little and said, "I'm serious - whatever happens tomorrow, I'm with you."

Maka nodded. "Thanks, Black*Star."

He let go of her hands and snapped off a cheery salute before leaving her chambers. Maka stared at the door for a long moment after it shut, as though she could see Black*Star and his guards setting up the night's watch.

Despite what should have been a restless night given who occupied the rooms just down the hall, Maka slept well, rising with a newfound energy and drive the next morning. She had set her plans in motion, and now there was nothing for it but to ensure they went through.

She met Soul in the hall outside her rooms after she'd bathed and dressed. Black*Star, who had retrieved him in the first place, was detailing the alistair ceremony and what was expected of those within it. "Good morning," Maka said as she drew level with them. "You've been briefed on today's vows?"

Soul nodded. "Thought I must admit, I do seem quite a fair bit older than those who usually undertake them."

A muscle in Black*Star's jaw twitched."I already told you, the decision of who is to be alistair is made when they're young, it's the vows that are made when they're older. If you're having trouble understanding the concept-"

"I'm sure everything is perfectly clear, Black*Star, thank you." Maka shot a warning glare to both Soul and Black*Star, who shifted but backed down. More rustling further down the hallway had Maka turning, then warning, "Ox, Kim, stand down."

Ox was looking at Soul like there was no other place he'd like to rest the tip of his spear than inside Soul's eye socket. The robin at his side looked no less murderous. "I'll stand down when I'm sure that he poses no threat to any avian in here," she said, her voice eerie in its quietness. She flicked a glance to Maka, then added, "My lady."

Kim was another of the Royal Flight Maka was worried about when it came to Soul. She'd joined with a massive chip on her shoulder, one Maka still had yet to understand, and like Black*Star, she'd been keen on proving wrong any who thought a songbird couldn't make it in the Royal Flight. Anyone watching her spar during training exercises would be hard-pressed to say she didn't belong exactly where she was. However, it was the passion and drive that made her such a dedicated guard that had Maka worried now. She mad a note to bring her concerns up to Black*Star, and possibly have him separate Ox and Kim in future posts.

Black*Star must have read some of that in her expression, for he leaned over and whispered, "I know they may not be the best match, but I trust their loyalty to you beyond a shadow of a doubt. They've sworn not to harm Soul, but I'll have them reassigned if anyone who might wish harm to Soul is around - I don't have that much faith that they'll uphold their promise in that circumstance. But I'm keeping around those who won't be afraid to fight a serpent whenever you're alone with him."

Maka shot a glance to Soul, who merely gave a wry shrug, as if to ask, _what else did you expect?_ He'd done his best to look less serpiente that morning, but though he was clad in the warm brown and golds favored by the avian court, it was difficult to fully hide the grace with which he held himself, or the strength still coiled in his body. He was still so totally _other_.

"It's time!" Blair burst into the hall in an explosion of color and sound. Her cheeks were pink from excitement. Maka had asked her to help in putting together the alistair ceremony last minute, in part because she needed the assistance, and partly so Maka could keep the secret of who her alistair was until the very last possible moment.

Which was now. The moment seemed to sink into Soul at the same time as it did her. He offered his arm, one eyebrow raised as he gave her a sardonic smile. "Well, if nothing else, this'll make for an interesting day, at least."

There was a rustle of movement and surprise among Maka's people as they took to the raised dais in the courtyard where Maka had become Tuuli Thea less than a week ago, but no shouts of alarm or rage. Maka was curious at the lack of reaction at first, but quickly realized that no one here had ever laid eyes on Soul before. The surprise was likely that no one recognized the man she was presenting as her alistair. However, as they took their places at the front, unease began to ripple through the crowd like wildfire. They might not have known who he was, but they could sense something was wrong in the same way a mouse who has not yet seen the cat behind him knew something was amiss. Soul, for all he had tried to hide it, was the furthest thing from avian.

But as neither Maka, Black*Star, or her guard looked alarmed, no one raised their voice in doubt, or began to question what was going on. There was a low murmur winding through the crowd, but no outright dissent. Save for one avian who stood near the back of the courtyard, who had seen Soul up close and personal, who had heard and rejected this very plan not that long ago.

Sid caught Kami before she could lunge for the stage, though he looked very unsure as to whether or not he was doing the right thing. The outrage on her mother's face sent blood pounding into her face and sweat pooling in her palms. Maka had known her mother would not approve, but to see such a visceral reaction… but no, she could not doubt herself. Not here, not now.

Thankfully, as her mother was tucked near the back, no one had yet noticed their former Tuuli Thea's reaction. They remained forward, watching Maka, naked curiosity shining on their faces.

It would not be for long.

"Tuuli Thea Maka Albarn," Black*Star said, his voice ringing out across the crowd as he recited the words that had been said to so many pair bonds before her. "You have chosen this man as your alistair, your protector, of your own free will and without outside influence or coercion."

"I have." Her voice was steady and strong, a minor miracle.

Black*Star turned to Soul. "Are you willing to swear upon your own spirit and the skies above that you will protect Maka Albarn from harm?"

"I swear," Soul answered gravely.

"And do you swear you will never raise your hand against her?" Black*Star's intonation did not change, but the look in his eyes had grown as sharp as the blade he wore at his hip. Maka started a little at the unexpected addition to the ceremony, as did those in the audience who were old enough to remember the last alistair ceremony. It had never been necessary to add a question like that before, because who would ever think of raising a hand to their Tuuli Thea? Surely there were some in the crowd asking themselves that question, but those on the dias understood the addition.

Soul paused at the question, his words coming a little later than the one previous. "I would never willingly harm the woman I love."

A vein in Black*Star's forehead pulsed. He'd caught the carefully worded answer - Soul had made no claims of love for Maka. This vow did not hold him. He was offering no promise.

He looked to Maka for guidance, but she only nodded for him to continue. As much as it smarted, she understood Soul's hesitance on this. As hard as they both were working for this alliance, for this peace, both were still wary of giving up everything in the event that it all fell apart. As terrifying as it was, Soul would choose his people over her, a choice Maka knew she would make for the sake of her own people. Without knowing whether this arrangement would be successful, neither could promise to not harm the other.

"Maka Albarn is Tuuli Thea, and as such, when you swear to her, you swear to her people," Black*Star continued, his voice not quite as steady as it had been before. "Will you protect her people as you would your family, and risk what is necessary to defend them?"

"I swear upon the tears of the goddess that I will do everything within my power to stop the bloodshed among the Tuuli Thea's people." Her words rang with an undeniable sincerity. This, at least, was true. Maka was unfamiliar with his turn of phrase regarding the goddess he swore to, but knew deep in her bones that this was not a vow he made lightly.

While Soul's wording might have been foreign to Maka, there were a few scholars in the crowd more educated in that area. A frantic whispering grew within the crowd, and Maka knew it would be only a few more moments before everyone within the courtyard was aware of who had just sworn himself to her.

"Maka Albarn, Tuuli Thea, you have chosen this man as your alistair," Black*Star continued, his voice rising as the volume of the crowd began to grow. "Soul Evans, you have sworn to defend Maka Albarn, your Tuuli Thea. Upon the words you have spoken, you are bound for life."

A small voice in the back of Maka's head wondered how long that might be.

The whispering had extinguished, the crowd falling silent as they took in what had just occurred, who they had just seen bind himself to the Tuuli Thea. Maka found her gaze moving to the back of the room, where her mother stood, hands clenched into tight fists at her side, twin spots of angry red coloring her cheeks. "The Tuuli Thea has made her choice," she spat loudly. "My words mean nothing here." She spun on her heel and marched out of the courtyard, Sid hurrying after her.

Her words stung, but Maka had expected it. She tried to tell herself it didn't matter, but she knew better.

But Maka had no time to dwell on that. Instead she stepped forward, holding up her hand to silence the quiet roar that had begun to sweep the crowd. They settled in an instant, though there was still an undercurrent of anxiety rippling through them. "It's true," she said simply. "This is Soul Evans you see before you." She raised her voice as some within the crown began to protest. "Soul Evans, who has just sworn to defend your Tuuli Thea, and you. When he first came to me, speaking of peace, I was doubtful. But I have sworn to do what it takes to protect you as my people, to end the fighting and bloodshed that has ravaged us for so long. As your queen, I am willing to do whatever it takes so that you might be protected. So that this war might end."

She scanned the crowd, her gaze landing on every face that she could. "You know me. You know that I don't shy away from walking the killing fields after every battle and tending to those wounded. I don't look away as they carry back the bodies and burn them on the funeral pyres. I don't ignore the suffering of my people, nor do I ever intend to. I have looked into the eyes of the dead and dying, held their hands as their souls escaped into the great sky beyond… _and I am tired of it_."

Maka reached out blindly and took Soul's hand, a gesture that elicited gasps from some. "I was terrified of this man, and hated him, as you all do. But then I saw his brother cut down in the fields where we have lost so many, and yet I was the only one left to sit by his side as he died. And he was no more different than any other soldier I have sat beside and comforted in their final moments. I wondered at all this pain and bloodshed, and when Soul came to me asking for peace, what else could I do but to listen?" She took a moment to catch her breath. She had not meant to become so caught up in this moment, in these emotions. The court watched her with wide eyes and amazement on their faces. "Soul has sworn to defend you, and as his Naga I have sworn to defend his."

The protests that had died down during her words sprang up again, but her raised hand had them quieting once more. "We have all lost someone. All I'm trying to do is prevent that from ever happening again. If that means I have to go out into the battlefields and disarm every soldier one by one, then I'll do it. As of right now, _this war is over_. Our peoples have united in this bond - any harm done to the serpiente is harm done to _my_ people, and now, to _your_ people."

For the first time, quiet reigned over the crowd. Despite the anger and fear they were no doubt feeling, all of them had been trained from birth to hide it deep within, to not show it in public. And yet polite caution and mild distaste were not enough to express what they felt.

A small voice lifted through the crowd and filled the courtyard. "How can we be sure, milady?" The crowd parted to allow the woman speaking to approach the dias. "Of course I trust in you and your judgment, but could this all be a ploy? Could it be that the serpiente are waiting to attack the moment we withdraw our soldiers?"

"I thought something similar when Camille Evans first approached us to ask about a meeting in Mistari lands," Maka admitted. "Both the Royal Flight and my own mother warned me against trusting the serpiente, and we left quickly, before plans could be discussed. But Soul would not be dismissed. He came to me in my rooms, in the middle of the night, without anyone else in the Keep knowing, and yet his only words were of peace."

Black*Star looked like he might throw a fit at this revelation, but somehow managed to hold his tongue.

"If the serpiente truly wished harm upon me, they have had every opportunity to do so, and yet I stand before you without a scratch." Her voice lowered, but the courtyard was so quiet that her words easily carried. "I am asking for your trust. I am asking that I never again have to hold the hand of a dying soldier as I sing him into his death. I am asking that you discard your weapons so that we might mourn our dead and learn how we might move on from this. I am asking for our children to learn of peace before they learn of war. I know it's a lot, and that it isn't easy. But this is _all I ask_."

* * *

Maka and Soul left the dias and withdrew back into the Keep, leaving the court to think on her words. Blair's voice was among those first raised, declaring her whole-hearted support and bringing a small smile to Maka's face.

They reached a balcony at the highest point of the Keep, a place Maka frequented when the world sometimes became too much, and all she wished to do was to settle her racing thoughts. She hadn't been thinking of this particular spot when she led them away, but now they were here, it seemed fitting. She rested her palms along the smooth stone railing, her eyes fluttering close as the wind played gently with the loose strands of hair around her face.

"Is this what the world looks like when you're flying?"

Maka opened her eyes to find Soul looking out across the landscape below them. Maka looked out as well, trying to take in the view as someone who didn't see it from this height, as she did, every day. The sun was just beginning its descent into the horizon, coloring the sky with bursts of orange and pink, and sending long shadows to cling to the base of the trees and distant mountains. "It's not usually this still, I suppose," she mused. "When I'm flying, I'm focused more on the air around me - the wind currents, how they play with my wings. I'm not usually looking at the ground unless I'm diving, landing, or falling."

"Falling?"

There had been one occasion where the battlefield had not been cleared of enemy soldiers as her guard had thought. She'd been flying out to comfort the wounded, as she always did, when the warning had come: _the field is not yet clear, turn back!_ Maka had just wheeled around to retreat as quickly as she could, but the warning had come too late. She'd been clipped by an arrow, and for a brief, heart-stopping moment, she'd been falling, unable to steady herself for several long moments. It was a moment she didn't like to dwell on.

"It happens sometimes," was all she said.

"Milady?" a timid voice interrupted them. A small sparrow approached, trembling in fear as her eyes darted to Soul. "Your mother wishes to speak with you and your… alistair, when you have a moment."

Maka sighed. Here came the moment she'd known was coming, yet dreaded nonetheless. Still, Maka would not be summoned as though her mother still had absolutely control here. "My mother is free to come and speak with me at any time," she told the sparrow lightly. "You may invite her to join us here."

The sparrow curtsied clumsily and left quickly.

"You know, I don't think your mother likes me very much," Soul confessed, turning back to lean against the railing. The statement summoned an unexpected smile out of Maka.

"Well, there's not much she can do about that," Maka said, tossing her hair over one shoulder. "Trying to summon me like a disobedient child."

"Up until this week, she's been able to," Soul pointed out. "Changes in leadership take some getting used to."

Maka shot him a sideways look. "Speaking from experience?"

Soul only shrugged.

"Maka Albarn." Her mother's voiced thundered onto the balcony a second before she appeared on the balcony. "You are Tuuli Thea now, and I know that I have no power here to override your decisions. But I will not support this sickening arrangement."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Maka said lightly. She'd known her mother would never agree to this, but some small part of her had hoped that her mother would see what Maka was trying to do, and would support her daughter's decision. But it had been a small, reckless hope. "However, my duty is to my people, meaning that they now come before you and your comfort."

"I wouldn't be arguing against this if I thought this would work," her mother hissed. "You think I didn't seriously consider this proposal when it was first brought up? I out of everyone know the risks a queen undertakes for her people, but you have gone too far. There is a reason we do not coexist, Maka! Our kinds are too different. We have been enemies since the beginning of time, and this will not end until either of us are destroyed."

"You are right about that," Soul said softly, startling Maka. "Our kinds are very different. But everyone seems to forget something. For all our differences as creatures, we all have the same human roots. We meet each other with human faces and human voices, and we exist now with human bodies. Right now," - he gestured between them - "I'm having a hard time finding any notable differences. Our animal counterparts may not have been intended to live together, but I'd like to think we're more than that."

"You dare to lecture me on this," Kami spat, her eyes full of fire. "Your kind murdered my _parents_. My _alistair_."

"Your kind murdered my mother, my father, and my brother," Soul replied, and though he may have meant to remain calm, his voice betrayed his anger. His fingers tightened on the balcony railing. He took a deep breath and said, "I have no wish to fight with you," he said, and this time his emotions were slightly reigned in. "I'm only trying to say that I'm willing to leave the past where it is and work toward a different future."

"Your kind has had no trouble fighting in the past," Kami pressed. "They're not exactly famous for their tight control, now are they?"

"What are you saying."

"How am I supposed to trust you with my daughter? I've heard emotion runs much more freely in your court, and that includes anger. How am I supposed to believe that you won't turn on her when your rage finally overwhelms you?"

"Kami, stand down."

"I have sworn not to harm her." Soul's jaw twitched as though there was much more he would like to say, but he kept quiet.

"Because a cobra's promise means so much," Kami sneered. "You may have lied and schemed your way to get here, but I know better. I know your kind."

Soul's hands seized on the railing.

"Kami, _stand down_ ," Maka ordered again.

Kami ignored her. "You can say you're different all you want, but at the end of the day, you're no better than the rest of your kind. Ruled by your emotions, unable to see anything farther than what's in front of you. It won't take long for that control of yours to crack, and when it does, my daughter is going to be the one in the way-"

" _Your Tuuli Thea gave you an order_." Maka inserted herself between Kami and Soul, her face mere inches away from her mother's. "Stand. Down."

Kami backed away, her face still curled in disgust. Before she could say anything more, Maka pressed after her. "You are not Tuuli Thea anymore," she said softly. "I am. And my decision is final. You have no power here to change my mind, and you have _no right_ to speak to my alistair this way. Now, I will escort you back to your rooms, where you will think on your words and your actions. Are we clear?"

Her mother looked at Maka as though she'd never seen her before, but nodded. Maka caught her mother's arm and led her from the balcony. They walked to her mother's room in silence, only stopping once they reached her door. "You may not agree with my decisions," Maka said, "but you still have to _respect them_."

"I understand," her mother said. "But Maka, please, be careful. Don't let your guard down around him. Sleep with a knife under your pillow if you have to. You may have thought through this decision, but please, don't let it make you careless." Her voice was nearly a whisper as she added, "I don't think I could survive losing you as well."

Maka swallowed hard. "You will not lose me, mother," she said.

Kami clasped her hands for a moment, then turned and entered her rooms, leaving Maka alone in the hall.

Maka made her way back to the balcony where they'd left Soul, hoping that she still might find him there. To her relief and slight surprise, he remained where he was, bent over the stone railing, staring out into the vast landscape, though she suspected he wasn't taking any of it in.

He didn't say anything as she approached his side. They stood together, Soul staring out, Maka watching him, for a long moment. "Starting to regret your decision?" he asked lightly, though there was a tense undercurrent to the question.

"Should I be?"

"I didn't go into this lightly," he said. "I knew the risks, and I knew what your people were likely going to say about me. But to hear those words from your mother…" He shook his head. "It was more than I was anticipating."

"She had no right to say that to you."

"Didn't she?" He laughed humorlessly. "No doubt it's what the rest of your people are thinking."

"So what," Maka said flatly. "Of course they're not going to like this. But you let me worry about what my people think."

He met her gaze finally, and though those ruby eyes still unnerved her, she didn't look away. "This will make me sound terribly naive, but this may be harder than I was anticipating."

"We both knew this wasn't going to be easy," Maka said. "And there are times when it may be more difficult than either of us imagined. But worthwhile things often are."

Soul searched her face for a moment, then gave her a small smile. "Your people are lucky to have you, Maka."

"They have _us_ , now, I suppose," she said. "I'm willing to work for this. To make this work. Are you?"

His answer came without hesitation. "Yes. Yes, I am."


	7. Chapter Six

Despite Maka's proclamation, peace was not to be found immediately. Two days after the alistair ceremony, news came of a skirmish at the avian and serpent boundary. Forces from the serpiente palace quickly brought the situation under control, though not quickly enough to prevent any loss of life. Kim's sister had been part of the avian rebel force, and so she requested leave in order to make arrangements and mourn, which Maka quickly granted. It was with a heavy heart that she spoke to her guard — she had hoped that declaring the war over would also mean the end of conversations like this. But perhaps that had been naive of her.

Soul and Maka made arrangements to alternate weeks between the Keep and the serpiente palace, so both peoples could meet with their leaders while avoiding accusations of favoring one land over another. They were accompanied by three from the Royal Flight and three from the palace guard. Black*Star handpicked the avians, making sure to assign those who would be vigilant of Maka's safety and any potential threats, while still loyal to her orders and careful about picking a fight with the serpiente. Maka hoped Anya had been as discerning in making her selections from the palace guard, but the poisonous glances she kept shooting Maka didn't make her particularly optimistic.

Despite their conversation on the balcony, Soul and Maka didn't spend a lot of time together, nor did they speak with any great frequency. Both were busy putting out fires within their own courts, and hardly had any opportunity to discuss their new alliance. At the Keep, Maka continued to deal with petitions from her people, though the requests for aid against the serpiente fell to near nonexistent levels. When such a request was made, Maka forwarded the complaint to Soul, who directed it on to the serpiente guards, who were much more efficient in policing their own than any outside force.

While Soul met with his own people, Maka took the opportunity to explore the serpiente palace, remembering how disorienting it had been the first few times she'd been inside. She made sure to keep her knife strapped to her hip as she always did, as Soul had warned her of the many dark corners and halls where ambush might be found.

She meticulously explored and mapped the various wings she found, including the kitchens, storerooms, guardrooms, infirmary, and multiple courtyards. It was interesting to compare the designs favored by the serpiente to the styles favored by the avian. Where large windows and open rooms were plentiful at the Keep, the serpiente seemed to prefer darker, more enclosed spaces. It reminded her a little of a snake's den - unsurprising, considering the residents.

Occasionally, she would run into a serpent during her explorations. If she was accompanied by a member of the Royal Flight, the encounter would be nothing more than a murmured deference as they passed by quickly, but if Maka was alone, she found it was much more likely for them to stop and approach her. They were not surprised to see her, as it was expected for their Naga to reside close by, rather, most seemed impressed that she dared to walk alone and among them. Overall, the atmosphere of the palace was one of warmth, something she would not have predicted given her first foray inside.

One afternoon, she stumbled into an open air courtyard that backed up against the palace, opening the space up into a market much like the one found at the Keep. Stalls occupied by vendors, merchants, and artisans lined each side of the courtyard, selling anything and everything one might desire. Faint music trickled through the air, leading Maka to a makeshift stage in the corner of the courtyard, where a lithe dancer clothed in loose, shimmering fabric was engaged in a hypnotic dance. She was accompanied by two musicians, one who provided the rhythm on a pair of beautifully crafted drums, and the other providing a lilting melody using a painstakingly hand carved flute.

The dancer was young, with wide dark eyes and silky black hair that fell to her waist. Her movements were incredibly precise, and yet she flowed with a grace that seemed otherworldly. When she finished, the rapt audience she had gathered burst into rapturous applause. She conversed with them for a few moment afterward, offering easy smiles and sparkling laughter.

As she approached Maka, the only thing she could think to say was, "That was incredible."

The serpent smiled, a gentle, kind thing. "That was Maeve's dance, from the Namir-da." she said. "I will perform again here on midsummer's night, for those who cannot watch the dance inside, in the synkal." She nodded to the palace behind them, then pursed her lips. "Or I might dance in the synkal this year, since Soul cannot."

"Why not?"

The dancer gave a tinkling laugh. "Because a mated man does not dance the Namir-da with another woman, and I don't believe you know the steps, hawk." She shrugged, a casual, easy motion. "Soul danced last year with Anya, which is why we were so surprised to see that he had chosen you. Their pairing had always been natural." She shrugged again.

Something deep in Maka's gut twisted uncomfortably. So here was the reason for Anya's unending hatred. Maka had known from Camille that the two had been close, but she hadn't quite realized how far that went. Skies knew it was nearly impossible to glean any information from Soul…

The dancer didn't seem to notice Maka's discomfort. She turned to climb back on the stage, but paused as she pulled herself to sit on the edge. She leaned over, her hair spilling forward to frame her pale face. "I do not know whether a hawk could learn the Namir-da, but I should like to teach you, if you are willing to learn."

Maka spluttered. "I'm not much of a dancer."

The serpent cocked her head, scanning Maka with a careful eye. "You are a fighter, are you not? We have heard many stories of the fierce, unyielding hawk who would do anything for her people. The one who fights as easily as she breathes. That grace is something you already have." She paused, considering. "Perhaps you cannot move as a serpent does, but I should like to try and teach you. Come by later, hawk, and we shall learn together." With that, she stood, her hair settling like a midnight backdrop behind her. She clasped her hands together, her eyes sliding shut, and as the musicians started a new melody, she slipped into a new dance.

Maka watched her bemusedly for a few moments more, then turned to wander again through the open air market, all the while turning over the dancer's words in her mind. She had thoroughly enjoyed watching the dancer perform, and a small part of her even wondered if she might be able to replicate the steps. But she reminded herself that dancing meant an audience, and not just any audience, but one filled with serpiente watching her attempt something so ingrained in their culture… she shuddered a little to think of it.

Thinking on it made her restless, so Maka decided to retreat to what she knew — training. She'd stumbled across an archery range deep in the bowels of the palace, and while she had trained with an avian bow before, she was curious to get her hands on and practice with a serpiente bow.

Avian archers were primarily concerned with delivering the poison they coated their arrows with rather than the arrows themselves, and as such their bows were designed for speed and distance. After all, it only took a scratch to fell a serpentine soldier. In contrast, serpiente bows were much larger and stiffer, designed to penetrate tissue as deeply as possible. No doubt it would be more difficult to wield, but Maka had always relished a challenge in the training ring.

She wound her way through the palace hallways, her steps more assured than they had been a few weeks ago. She came to an intersection in the hallway and paused as she caught sight of two people tucked into a dark alcove. Maka would have moved on, sure that whatever was going on was none of her business, when their hushed argument drifted towards her.

"-don't see why this is necessary-"

"Don't see why… Anya, you can't be serious."

Maka stopped in her tracks. That was Soul's voice coming from the alcove, and yes, that was Anya he was arguing with. Maka bit her lip as she debated, then slunk back a few steps so she was hidden around the corner.

Anya tossed her hair over her shoulder, one hand cocked on her hip. "Of course I'm serious. This whole charade is unnecessary."

"The war is over. In the past few weeks we've had no battle, no deaths - this was are only real shot at peace, and it's working. How can you say this was unnecessary?"

"We could have figured something out," Anya said stubbornly. "To go behind all our backs and invite her into our home…" She shook her head in disgust. "You've opened us up to attack."

Soul spread his arms wide. "And yet none has come. They're just as willing to work for this as we are. What will it take to make you see that?"

Anya ignored the question. "It's sickening, to see her prance around here like she owns the place, when she knows nothing about us and our culture. She doesn't belong in the position of Naga."

"And what, you do?" Soul challenged. He crossed his arms. "I know what your aspirations were, Anya. You were never subtle about them."

"Why should I have been?" she shot back. "Your mother made it no secret-"

"My _step_ mother," Soul said through gritted teeth. "Not me. That's always been your problem, Anya. Always thinking you know best without bothering to ask anyone else involved."

Anya shook her head. "Alright, fine, so maybe I overstepped." Her tone softened, and she reached out to touch Soul's arm. "But can you honestly say you're happy in this arrangement, Soul? Whatever you think about me, I still know you. I've watched you over these past few weeks, and I'm worried."

"What I feel, what I want, doesn't matter."

The words were like an arrow to Maka's gut. Did he truly feel that way? She knew their pairing would be a burden, a sacrifice, to the both of them, but was it really taking such a toll on Soul?

"Soul." Anya's voice was low enough that Maka was starting to have trouble hearing her. "That's not true. You deserve good things, too."

Maka couldn't make out Soul's reply, which was probably a good thing - she'd eavesdropped for far too long. Before either of them could leave the alcove and discover her, she backed up slowly, then headed back down the hall she was in. Her restless desire to train now quenched, she wandered the halls aimlessly, being careful to avoid the wing of the palace she'd just been in.

Anya's words gnawed at Maka, both at the way she'd spoken about Maka, and the way she'd spoken to Soul. Maka knew now that the guard would never warm to her, and she'd stolen the title Anya believed had been rightfully hers. The familiarity with which she'd spoken to Soul, the tender words… she had known him for a long time, had cared for him, and knew that Soul was unhappy. Maka feared this was her fault, but had no idea how to rectify it, or even why this bothered her so much.

Her steps took her closer towards the residences, and it was here that she ran into Camille, who was bracing herself against the wall as she took careful, measured breaths.

Maka hurried to her side. "Are you alright? Should I call for someone?"

Camille shook her head. "I'm fine, just a bit of a dizzy spell." Maka offered her arm and helped lead Camille the few steps it took to get to her room and sitting in a chair by a low tea table. "These happen, sometimes, because of the baby. It's nothing serious, I promise."

Maka, who had never spent much time along pregnant women, looked doubtful.

Camille laughed. "I just shooed away the father for hovering, I don't need it from you too."

"Who is the father, if you don't mind me asking?"

"His name's Gaven, he's a member of the guard."

Maka frowned, unable to recall any particular guard who seemed close to Camille.

She must have read the confusion on Maka's face, as Camille clarified, "We aren't advertising it much. What with the war going on, we thought it would just add another valuable target to the list. But with everything starting to calm down, we thought we might announce it at the Namir-da."

There was that word again. "A dancer performing in the market mentioned the Namir-da to me today."

Camille nodded. "That was probably Tsubaki. She's the leader of the dancers guild, and never misses a chance to dance in the market if she can help it. She's incredible, isn't she?"

Maka nodded fervently. "I've never seen anyone move like that."

"Did she say if she would be performing this year?"

Maka frowned as she tried to recall her words. "I don't know if she's sure. She said something about performing outside the synkal, but wondered if she might perform it inside this year. Because Soul wouldn't be able to." Her voice fell a little at the end.

A twinkle appeared in Camille's eye. "She told you that Soul danced with Anya last year, didn't she?"

Maka shrugged. "She might have."

"Did she also tell you that is was because our stepmother forced him to?"

"No. Why would she do that?"

"Life is short. Eloise wanted to make sure Soul had someone who might be Naga in the event that Wes was killed. Having him dance with Anya was as good as making the announcement herself."

Maka looked down at her hands, which were currently picking at the fabric of her dress in her lap. She hadn't intended to make Camille her confidant, but there was likely no one else who knew Soul better, and Maka thought she might explode if she didn't talk to someone about what she'd just heard. "Would Soul have been happier with her?" she asked. "Is he really so miserable?"

Camille looked startled at the question, and to her credit, didn't answer immediately. She thought for a long moment, picking her words carefully. "I wouldn't say he's miserable, exactly. He's glad the plan seems to be working, that there haven't been any major conflicts or losses of life since you two announced the match. But my half-brother has always been an incredibly solitary creature, more so than most of our kind. He turns inward, and doesn't usually let anyone in. Whatever he is feeling, I would say that he's lonely, above all else. It's a lot of work, leading our people, as you well know." At Maka's nod, she continued. "And yet he doesn't really have anyone to lean on, now that he's Diente."

"He has me." The words slipped out before Maka could stop them.

Camille's eyebrows shot up.

"I mean - that is to say -" She took a breath and tried again. "I only mean that we agreed on this plan together. We both agreed to work toward peace. I assumed that meant helping the other when they needed it. So why hasn't he come to me for help?"

"Maka, the last thing he wants to do is push you, to ask something of you that you are unwilling to give. This time, you will have to be the one to go to him."

"You mean now?"

Camille shrugged. "If not now, then when? Last I saw him, Soul was headed to market to meet with some of the artisans and merchants. Go join him, and see if you can't ease his burden just a little."

Maka hesitated, suddenly unsure of doing so now that the possibility was right in front of her.

Camille laughed and shooed her away. "Go, Maka! And tell me how it turns out."

* * *

Despite her reservations, Maka followed Camille's advice, retracing her steps back to the open air market where she'd met Tsubaki and watched her dance. This time the dancer was absent, leaving nothing for Maka but to find Soul.

His white hair was easy to spot, and soon she was approaching him as he spoke to one of the merchants. Someone nearby drew his attention to her, and he tensed before he turned around and spotted her. Maka wondered at the motion - had he been expecting Anya? Or worse, Maka herself?

But he only relaxed slightly and held out a hand to her. "Maka, what a surprise." She took it, and after a moment's hesitation, intertwined her fingers with his. He started a little, his eyes flicking to hers for a brief moment before returning to the merchant before him.

They had been touching whenever they were in public to keep up the charade of a young couple in love - handholding, an arm around the waist, fingers across shoulders - to the point where Maka was becoming more accustomed to Soul's touch. And yet, there still remained a distance between them, one Maka hadn't questioned until she'd heard Anya's gentle words earlier that day. Had she not been making as much of an effort as she should?

"Maka, you remember Arthur, yes?" he asked her, gesturing to the metalworker in front of him.

"Of course." She nodded to him. Arthur was a staple at the avian markets who had been one of the first to ask permission to trade in the serpiente markets. He was not the only one to do so; there were also serpiente merchants who had requested to trade in the avian markets as well.

"Always a pleasure to see you," he replied.

"How is the trade going?" she asked.

"Well, for the most part. I did have a group nearby who looked like they wanted to start trouble, but they left as soon as Soul approached. I don't think they'll be back." He looked around the market, as though taking it in for the first time. "I don't know what I expected, coming here," he admitted. "But it's more than I could have imagined."

They bid him farewell after a few minutes of small talk, leaving Soul and Maka to wander the market. "I'm glad to see him here," she said. "I was worried no one would take up the offer to trade in other markets."

Soul nodded. "It's certainly intimidating, but most have good heads for business. Bringing their goods to new markets can only help their trade."

Maka accustomed to seeing the odd guard trailing Soul, suddenly noticed their absence. "No guards today?"

Soul shook his head. "Not at market. I can handle myself well enough, and no one would dare try and attack the Diente in public like this." He slid a sideways look to her, and Maka was suddenly very aware that they were still holding hands. "If you're asking because you're worried for yourself, I wouldn't be. My people like you, Maka, they've told me so. We're at no risk here."

"I wasn't asking - I didn't - never mind." Why was she so unsure of herself suddenly? Maka shook her head to clear it. "I've been out here before, but not with a guide. Show me."

Maka was right in that touring the market was a much different thing with Soul by her side. They went from stall to stall, chatting with them about their wares. Those that offered food presented a sampling of their cooking, and soon Maka was full to bursting with delicious pastries and savory treats.

One such chef offered a taste of fresh lamb, though Maka pleaded a full stomach to avoid trying it. As they stepped away, Soul said, "You know, I've noticed you don't eat meat, and I wanted to ask you about it. I've seen other avians take part in dishes like that." He nodded back to the vendor. "Is there a particular reason you don't?"

Maka shrugged. "My great-grandmother hated the smell of meat, so she insisted that the cooks avoid serving it in the Keep. By the time I came around, they were so used to serving dishes without it that I never really acquired the taste."

Soul's mouth quirked in a small smile. "Your great-grandmother sounds like an interesting woman. Since you've no moral or religious obligations against it, can I ask if you might try some?"

Maka considered his request. It was true that she had no strong feelings about abstaining from meat, only that she hadn't really been provided the opportunity to try it. And if she didn't like it, it was easy to fall back on her previous diet, no harm done. So she nodded, and let Soul lead her back to the vendor who had offered them lamb.

"Tell us again what wonderful creation you have to offer," Soul said to the cook, who smiled knowingly at his flattery.

"I've prepared some freshly roasted lamb in a wine and rosemary sauce that I would be happy to offer your Naga."

Maka accepted the small morsel he offered, almost laughing at the intent way both the cook and Soul watched for her reaction. She wondered suddenly if the cook would be terribly offended if she didn't like meat after all, and whether she would have to pretend to like it to spare his feelings.

Her worry vanished as she tasted the lamb, the flavor dissolving across her tongue as the tender meat almost melted in her mouth. Soul laughed at her expression of surprise and the cook smiled widely. "Does the lady like it?" he asked, though the answer had to be written clearly across her face.

"Yes," Maka said once she'd swallowed. "It's like nothing I've had before, but it's delicious."

Soul smiled widely. "Good. I'm glad you like it." He turned to the chef. "We're leaving for the Keep tomorrow, but when we return, would you be available and willing to prepare dinner for us in the synkal?"

The cook blinked, stunned. "I - yes, of course. Yes, I would be honored."

Soul inclined his head. "Thank you."

They spent the rest of the afternoon in the market, not leaving until the sun had sunk below the horizon. Maka wondered if she would be expected to eat dinner after filling her stomach at the multitude of food stalls, but Soul passed by the dining hall without a word.

He led her to her rooms, and while they were quiet on their journey, it wasn't an awkward or uncertain silence that filled the air. Maka chewed her lip as they neared their destination - as pleasant as the afternoon had been, she hadn't really accomplished what she had set out to do. But now that the moment was approaching, she was unsure of how to proceed.

They stopped outside her room, Soul gesturing to the door. "Your room, my lady," he said, sketching a mock bow.

Maka's lips twitched into a small smile. "Why, thank you." She hesitated, then opened the door and nodded inside. "Join me inside for a moment, will you?" She knew she'd kick herself later if she let him leave without at least trying to speak with him.

Soul tilted his head in curiosity, but followed her inside. She shut the door behind him, took a breath, then turned to face him. Soul was frowning. "Did something happen?"

Maka shook her head, forcing a more pleasant expression to her face. "No, no, don't worry, nothing's happened. I only wanted to speak with you about… well, this, I suppose." She gestured to the space between them.

Soul's brows flicked up. "What about 'this'?"

Maka blushed, but pressed on. "I think we're going about this wrong."

"What do you mean? There hasn't been any major fighting, and both our peoples seem to have accepted this new direction. Unless you've heard something different?"

Maka shook her head. "That's not what I meant. I mean our partnership. We both promised to make this work, but both of us retreated back to what we know. What's the point of agreeing to work together if we don't? I know we have our differences, that this isn't what we had planned originally, but I think we can do better than barely speaking and only ever seeing each other when we're traveling."

Soul shrugged. "That goes both ways, you know."

Maka inclined her head in acknowledgment. "And I recognize that. I'm only saying that I think we can rely on each other more than we think. I believe that we can be friends in this, if you'd like."

For some reason that Maka couldn't discern, Soul's expression went flat. "Friends."

Maka became defensive at his tone. "Is that so hard to believe? That we could be friends?"

Soul shook his head, and went he met her gaze again, his expression was warmer, that strange flatness wiped from his features. "No, of course. I apologize for my distance. I didn't want to push where I might not be welcome."

"You're always welcome to at least ask." Maka didn't know what prompted her, but she reached out to catch his hand, squeezing it once.

Soul hesitated and pulled his hand away. "In the interest of full disclosure, you should know that the distance you've noticed has not been entirely due to business." He looked away as he admitted, "I've been avoiding you."

Maka blinked. "What? Why? Is it because of what my mother said? Because you have to know that I don't—"

Soul shook his head. "No, it's not that. I — that is to say, over the past few weeks… or, no, that's not—" He scrubbed a hand through his hair in frustration, then dropped it with an angry sigh. "No, forget I said anything. It's nothing." Before she could call him back, he turned on his heel and quickly left the room, letting the door slam shut behind him.

Maka stared after him, her brows knotted in confusion. What had just happened? Had Soul been avoiding her or hadn't he? Likewise, she was unsure whether to chase after him and force him to explain himself, or let him leave and recollect himself so she could confront him at a later time.

No, she wouldn't let him storm away without an explanation. She hurried out of her room and out into the hallway, but wasn't sure which direction he'd chosen. In that moment, as she paused, a strange muffled _thump_ echoed down the right hand passage. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as Maka's gut told her something was terribly wrong.

She sprinted around the corner, skidding to a sudden stop as she took in the scene before her.

Soul and another figure were fighting silently in the middle of the hall, their movements so quick they appeared to blur through the air. His opponent was slender, their clothing loose and shapeless enough that determining gender was near impossible. A scarf was tied around their face, leaving only a narrow gap for their eyes. They were armed with a long-bladed dagger Maka recognized instantly - it was the preferred weapon of many in the Royal Flight. And the longer she watched, the more certain she became that the assassin was avian. She knew that stance, that fighting style.

With that realization came a much more horrifying one. An avian attacker meant there was a significant chance the blade was coated with poison, and that one scratch would kill Soul where he stood.

Maka didn't even stop to consider it. She rushed forward, throwing her arms around the assassin and heaving him to the side and away from Soul. The attacker whirled around and lashed out with their blade. Maka threw her arm up to block the blow and instantly felt steel meet flesh. It was followed by an intense rush of heat, confirming Maka's suspicions: the blade had indeed been poisoned.

In the moment after she'd been cut, Maka felt the assassin recoil, almost in shock. They'd recognized her, and the sight had been enough to throw them off. It was enough for the attacker to reconsider. They spun and fled down the hall, disappearing in an instant.

Soul took a step forward as though he had half a mind to follow after, but he turned to Maka instead. "Are you alright?" he said urgently.

Maka made to nod, but the world seemed to tilt on its axis all at once, and she stumbled into the wall. Soul wrapped and arm around her waist and half-carried her to a door down the hall. He pounded on it several times, and it opened to a multitude of guards.

"Anya, there's been an attack. Avian assassin, we think, took off toward the southern exit," he said in a rush. "Maka's been injured."

Anya nodded. "You, with me," she ordered one. To the others she said, "You, stay with the Diente, and you, fetch the doctor to Maka's quarters. And keep quiet about it, we don't want news of this to spread." The guards rushed away to attend to their assignments.

"Let's get back to her room," Anya said, guiding them on. "The doctor will be there shortly."

That was the last thing Maka remembered before the hall slid sideways and everything went dark.


	8. Chapter Seven

Maka woke in bits and pieces, before the world finally came together to reveal Black*Star bandaging her arm, the doctor standing behind him, and Soul pacing on her other side.

"It's not fatal," Black*Star told Soul. "But - Maka, how do you feel?" he asked, noticing she had woken.

"I've been better," she said hoarsely.

"You'll be alright," he said. "They must have distilled the poison multiple times to get it this strong. I don't think I've ever seen a reaction like this from an avian." He looked to Soul. "If that sword had scratched you at all, you'd be dead right now."

Soul nodded at Maka. "It's only thanks to her that I'm not."

Black*Star turned back to her. "This wasn't designed for avians in mind, so while you might be in and out for the rest of the day…" Whatever he was going to say was cut short as Maka drifted off again.

When she woke next, the room was empty save for Soul, who was sitting by her side. He straightened up as opened her eyes, his hands fluttering by her side. "Do you need anything?" he asked, his voice low. "Water?"

Maka nodded. Soul helped to prop her up against the pillows, then poured her a glass of water from the clay jug at her bedside. She sipped it slowly, savoring the feeling of the cool liquid against her dry throat.

"You could have been killed," Soul said softly, his tone carefully neutral, as though this was the only way he could talk about it.

Maka shook her head, ignoring the way it made the room spin. "The attacker was avian. I was reasonably sure they wouldn't go after me if I intervened."

"How do you know they're avian?"

"Their movement looked similar to the way I've seen my guards move in a fight. And the weapon was an avian one."

"Hm." Soul looked thoughtful. "I thought so too, but apparently she's a serpent. One of my own." His voice took on a quieter, darker tone that suggested he partially blamed himself for recent events.

Maka reached a hand out to touch his. "You're not responsible for the actions of others," she said. The full implication of what he'd told her sunk in then, and she frowned. "Are they sure it was a serpent? I could have sworn the movement was all avian."

Soul nodded. "The guards cornered her not much farther down the hall. She might be a dancer, trying to imitate avian movement. We think she's trying to reignite the war — using a stolen avian weapon, mimicking that fighting style. Had she been successful, it would have appeared as though my murder had come at the hands of an avian, and the fighting would have started anew." He looked grim at the thought.

"That's a lot of speculation. Have you spoken with her?"

Soul shook his head. "Anya said she took her own life when she realized she'd been cornered."

"Do they know anything else about her?"

"No. There's very little in the report. No one seems to know who she is."

Maka closed her eyes briefly, trying her best to ignore the temptation to keep them shut and fall asleep once more. "So we have nothing."

Soul was shrugging as she opened her eyes again. "You're still here. And we know that there are those among the courts who are unhappy enough to lash out like this. We'll increase security and be more prepared if someone tries something like this again."

"I wish I could do more," Maka said, her voice a near whisper.

"You've done more than enough." Soul squeezed her hand, reminding her they were still joined. He was silent for a long time, and then, so quietly she almost missed it, said, "You scared me today, Maka."

"It'll take a lot more than that to take me down," she said lightly.

Soul shook his head, refusing to downplay her actions. But he only said, "You need rest."

"Do they know how much longer until I'm recovered?"

"Only a day or two more," Soul answered. "But only if you rest." This was paired with a pointed look.

Maka rolled her eyes, but slid further down the bed until she was settled against the pillow. She went to make a wry comment on Soul's propensity for worrying, but she was asleep before the words could form on her tongue.

* * *

Soul stayed by her side as Maka recovered, a process which, true to his word, only took a day and a half more. As soon as Maka was able to partake in a full meal, she announced her intention to travel back to the Keep.

"Are you sure you're feeling well enough to travel?" Soul asked as he watched her pack. "We can take another day if you need it."

Maka made a shooing motion at him. "I've already told you a hundred times, I'm fine. We're already late heading back as it is; I don't need my mother flying down here personally to try and find out why."

Soul cringed at the image and no further argument was made.

They made the trip on horseback, because despite Maka's insistence regarding her fitness, the occasional dizzy spells had not yet worn off, making long flights inadvisable. After several long hours on horseback, Maka once again had a healthy appreciation for the lengths Soul went to make the journey every week.

They arrived to a flurry of activity at the Keep, though the frenetic energy seemed to die down as soon as Maka was spotted. A contingent of guards met them near the front gate, including a tired and run-down looking Kim. Sid caught the direction of Maka's gaze and bent down to fill her in. "She's only come back to duty today. She's taken the loss of her sister hard. Before the announcement of the peace, she might have been honored as a noble soldier, but now…" He grimaced. "She's been labeled a traitor. Kim didn't take well to that."

"Of course she wouldn't," Maka murmured. She eyed Kim again, both with pity and apprehension. She felt bad for the young robin, but given the climate of the past few days, Maka found herself a little more paranoid than she might have been previously.

Black*Star, who had caught up to them during the conversation, caught the look on Maka's face. "Anya caught the assassin," he reminded her, "but if you'd like, I can keep a close eye on Kim, for your peace of mind." She wasn't the only one worried about Kim, clearly.

Maka murmured her thanks.

"There you are." Her mother's voice rang out in the courtyard, overshadowing the loud clamor of their arrival. "Did you plan to let you know you'd arrived at all, or were you planning to wander about all afternoon?" Despite her blase words, Kami's face was lined with worry. "We were concerned these past few days when you didn't arrive. Some of us were on the verge of storming the palace to make sure you were still among the living."

Maka shot Soul a look as if to say "Told you so!" The corners of his mouth twitched.

She met her mother's gaze head on, sobering as she braced herself to recount the past few days' events. "There was an attack at the palace," Maka said honestly. "Someone trying to go after Soul. I was caught in the middle and have spent the past few days recovering. But I'm fine," she added hastily, holding up a hand as her mother lurched forward to grab her daughter and examine her from head to toe. "I truly am. But that's why we're late." She continued on with what scant details they had on the would-be assassin, including her identity as a serpent.

"How can you be so sure that you weren't the target?" Her mother said urgently.

Maka shook her head vehemently. "I wasn't. The assassin ran off rather than attack me."

Her mother frowned. "If this is true, and her goal was to reignite this war, then why would she have hesitated, as you say she did? Killing you would have achieved that same goal as killing Soul, especially if it occurred in the middle of the synkal?"

Maka shrugged. "We don't know." She looked to Soul, inviting him to share his thoughts.

"Maybe she wasn't trying to kill me. An assassination attempt might have accomplished the same thing without her having to spill her Diente's blood."

"Well, at least some of your kind has their limits," Kami sniffed, and the mood soured quickly. "I'm still not convinced. Are you sure this Anya is correct?"

"Mother, if you have some better theory, we'd love to hear it," Maka said loudly, miffed and hoping to avoid another scene like the one on the balcony. She looked to Soul, an apology in her eyes, but he wouldn't meet her gaze.

Whatever Kami's reply, Maka missed it as a sudden wave of dizziness swept over her. She reached out, trying to find anything to steady her, only to find Soul's arm as he appeared almost instantly by her side.

"Maka, great skies, lie down," her mother ordered, as though Maka had remained in the courtyard through sheer stubbornness and not because they'd been conversing mere moments ago. "Why would you let her travel like this?" she demanded of Maka's guards and Soul at large.

"I'm fine, Mother," Maka said. With some small effort, she released Soul and straightened up.

Kami's face softened. "Maka, you look exhausted. You won't get any better if you refuse yourself rest; please go and lie down." Her concern over her daughter's welfare shone through once more and Maka relented, not only to appease her mother's worries, but also because a long nap sounded incredible. She nodded. "Alright, I'll go."

"Soul," her mother said as Maka and Soul made to leave, "I have an issue regarding the market I'd like your opinion on. It's nothing important," - this was directed towards Maka, who'd hesitated - "nothing that requires your attention, at least." She made a shooing motion towards the elevated first floor. "Go."

Soul nodded to her and turned to leave with her mother.

Maka fumed silently as she made her way up to her room. If the question regarding the markets was unimportant enough that Maka didn't need to hear it, and Soul certainly needn't be involved. Kami had only made it up to keep Soul from coming upstairs with Maka. After so many weeks, and she still didn't trust him.

This unhappy mood followed Maka into her dreams, scattering her dreams into strange fragments. And yet despite this fitful sleep, Maka woke feeling rested and refreshed. She slipped into the hall, not wishing to disturb anyone in the early hours, and found Soul and Black*Star deep in conversation.

"I understand," Black*Star was saying. "If you-" He cut himself off as Maka came into view. "Maka, good morning. How are you feeling?"

"Fine." Maka eyed the two of them suspiciously. While they had developed something of a formal cordiality over the past few weeks, Maka had never seen Soul and Black*Star elect to spend time alone voluntarily. "What's going on? What are you two talking about?"

Soul waved a hand airily. "Only new security measures, that's all."

Black*Star nodded. "We agreed it's probably best to allow some of the serpiente guard into the Keep, given the attempt on Soul's life."

Maka nodded. They'd been hesitant to allow serpiente inside before, and Soul's guards had not been allowed to travel with them during weeks spent at the Keep. But no doubt it would be safer for them both to grant them access now.

"Anya and Aryn will arrive tomorrow morning and report to me," Black*Star continued.

"Anya?" The name came out sharper than Maka intended.

Soul gave her an odd look, but Black*Star seemed oblivious as he replied, "Of course. As the captain of Soul's guard, she's doubtless the most qualified for the position, and the most loyal." Whatever Maka's opinions of Anya, she knew his assessment was sound, and did her best to drop her unease.

They moved into the breakfast hall to eat. Soul seemed to be in a strange, quiet mood, so Maka tried to break the tension. "What did my mother want last night?"

Soul gave her a humorless smile. His tone was darker than usual as he answered, "Like she said, nothing important. It seems she still dislikes me having any time alone where I might plan some nefarious deed."

Black*Star looked as though he would rather be anywhere than that room, so he stood up and said, "I'm sorry, but I should go check in with the flight and prepare them for Anya and Aryn's arrival tomorrow. Ox will be with you today." He nodded back to where the osprey stood inconspicuously outside the door. Black*Star leaned closer and added, "It was his weapon the assassin stole, and he feels terribly guilty about it. I wouldn't worry about it, though - he's one of our best, and we've never had a problem with him before. You can trust him." With that, he left Maka and Soul alone in the hall.

Soul's mood seemed to grow blacker by the minute, and Maka's various attempts to lighten it did nothing. Finally, she grew tired of it. "Soul, what's wrong?"

"Wrong? You mean besides nearly being killed a few days ago and watching you get sliced open to protect me? I don't see anything wrong there." He threw his napkin down on the table. "What one person does, several usually consider. The first one may have been caught, but this is far from over." After a long beat of silence, he put the palms of his hands on his eyes and sighed. "I'm sorry, Maka, I don't mean to be rude. You of all people understand what's going on."

And she did. Maka may have dismissed her own injuries, but the reality of what had happened was far more concerning. Soul was right - an attack like that usually wasn't isolated, and though the incident had been closed, the likelihood of another attempt couldn't be dismissed out of hand. And yet, what could they do about it? The helplessness itched, like an ill-fitting set of clothes. Of course Soul would be feeling the same strain as she. She told him so, but he only shook his head and excused himself from the room.

Maka stared after him, one fist pressed against her mouth in frustration. Soul was still a terrible mystery to her at times, one she longed to solve. The moment she thought she understood something about him, he'd do the complete opposite of what she expected. And yet, she thought she saw something of herself in him.

Maka narrowed her eyes as her resolve grew even stronger: she would unravel the mystery of Soul Evans, even if it was the last thing she did.

* * *

Soul's dark mood persisted for the rest of the day, despite Maka's determination to help him break through it. The assassination attempt had brought to light all the dark and ugly things they'd hoped they could avoid throughout the difficult process of integrating their leadership, highlighting that despite their hard work in this alliance, there remained those who would always be unhappy with it.

However, to others he only seemed mildly disquieted, and it was only Maka and a few serpiente merchants they spoke with who picked up on his melancholy. Maka wondered when it was that she had gained the ability to see past his external mask, and whether he was also able to read her in a similar way.

Though she wished to talk to him, she found herself always floundering on what to say. What could she offer that wouldn't sound trite or self-centered? She was at a loss as to what exactly he needed, and it left her frustrated and annoyed with herself.

These turbulent emotions kept her from sleeping well that night, and after hours of tossing and turning fitfully, she rose and tread familiar steps to Black*Star's door. He didn't look surprised to find her there, and invited her in without hesitation. "Let me guess," he said, closing the door behind her. "You're worried about Soul."

She shot him an exasperated look as she settled into one of the chairs in the front room. Black*Star leaned against one of the walls, his posture casual as he waited for her to continue.

"I know he's been tense for a while now, and I think he was avoiding me for a time," she said slowly, gathering her thoughts. "But it's never been this bad. I'm not sure what to do. Does it have to do with what you were talking about this morning? Because I know it wasn't security measures, or whatever excuse you had." She watched him carefully, looking for any crack or clue in his expression.

Black*Star shrugged one shoulder. "Couldn't say for sure," he said.

Maka waited a beat more, but he didn't say anything else. "Really? You're not going to tell me?"

"What we talked about is between me and him."

"Because you're such bosom buddies now."

"We share something in common, now," he said, ignoring her quip.

"What?"

" _You_ , bright one," he said dryly.

"So you were talking about me."

"Skies, but you're nosy." He rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. He eyed her carefully, and for a moment she thought he might actually tell her. But what he said instead was, "Do you love him?"

Maka almost choked on her own spit. "I'm sorry, _what?_ "

"Do you love him?" Black*Star repeated. "Because you're showing an awful lot of worry for someone you used to loathe."

Maka couldn't do anything but blink in surprise for a long moment. "I - I don't… I don't loathe him. Anymore."

"Yes, that much I got."

She bit her thumbnail, unsure of how to answer. "I… _like_ him, I suppose. We share more in common than I thought. I respect him. But, I don't… I don't know that I love him. I think he deserves it. Love, I mean. But I don't know that I'm where he'll find it."

"Do you trust him?"

Maka was as unsure of this answer as she was of the one before it. "I trust his intentions. I trust that he's doing what's best for his people, and that includes this peace."

"That's not really an answer."

Maka told herself not to overthink it. She could analyze and wonder all day long, but that wouldn't get her anywhere. When it came down to it, did she trust him?"

"Yes." Her eyes widened at the answer that left her lips. "I think I do." She sounded startled at the revelation.

Black*Star was too, from the look of it. "Really?"

Maka nodded slowly. "I don't think I could explain why."

"Well," he said with a sigh, pushing off from the wall, "if it makes you feel any better, I think the feeling might be mutual."

"What?"

"He hasn't said anything of that effect to me, but it's a feeling I have." He shot her a sardonic look. "Throwing yourself in front of a poisoned knife might have done something for that, I think."

Maka sighed and let her head fall back against the chair. "I won't apologize for it."

"I wouldn't expect you to." He crossed the room and sat in the chair across from room, moving it forward until their knees almost touched. Leaning forward, he took her hands in his and pulled gently until she was sitting up straight and looking at him. "Look," he said. "I know this hasn't been easy. Especially considering the past week." Maka let out a snort. "But you just have to give him a little space, I think. He's processing what happened, and especially your actions. Other than that," he shrugged. "I think you'll have to ask him yourself."

Maka slumped forward a little. "Do I have to?"

Black*Star snorted. "You're Tuuli Thea, you don't have to do anything. But it might make this whole peace thing a little more difficult if you decide to never talk to your alistair."

Maka smiled, then cocked her head to assess him. "Are you okay with this? I know I asked for your support in this, and you weren't happy about it."

Black*Star shook his head. "I did doubt whether you could pull this off. If peace was really something we could see in our lifetime. But I look around now… I've worked hand in hand with the serpiente and both of us have come out the other side. We've had no major battles, no significant death counts… if you'd told me a few months ago that you'd end up doing all this in your first month as Tuuli Thea, I'd have laughed in your face. And then I think, of _course_ you'd be the one to do it, drag us all kicking and screaming into peace." He paused, considering his words. "So yes, I'm okay with this. You've made my job ten times more difficult, but I'm willing to follow you down this road, as always."

Maka smiled widely. "Thank you."

The door in front of them opened suddenly, and they both bolted back in surprise, their hands tearing away from each other. Ox stood in the doorway, trying to look anywhere but at Maka and Black*Star. Anya looked murderous.

"Sir, I - Anya is here," Ox said unnecessarily. "You wanted her to report to you immediately?

Anya's eyes flashed dangerously. "If I'm interrupting, I can come back later."

Black*Star shook his head and stood up. "You're not interrupting anything," he told her. "Ox, if you could escort Maka back to her rooms. Anya, I can show you to your room if you'd like, or we can tour the Keep."

"I'd prefer to know the layout of this place before I retire," she said, still looking at Maka. "Apparently there might be all sorts of things going on in here."

Maka didn't bother to say anything to Anya as she left the room. She knew what it had looked like - Maka and Black*Star, sitting so close they were touching, face to face, their hands clasped together. It had looked like an intimate moment, but hadn't been. Of course it hadn't been.

But she doubted Anya would believe her.

* * *

They returned to the serpiente palace a few days later. Maka tried to discern whether Anya had told Soul about what she'd thought she'd seen, but with the midsummer's festival quickly approaching, the synkal was in too much of an uproar. Maka and Soul were both pulled in several directions in the preparations, leaving them little free time to talk.

A day or so after she arrived, Maka screwed up her courage and sought out Tsubaki, the dancer she'd encountered in the open-air market, and asked her to teach her some steps. Tsubaki had been quietly pleased at the request, and had led her into the dancer's nest, an enclosed space reserved for the dancing troupe. It took advantage of the natural shelter provided by the nearby forest - the ceiling consisted of ropes and nets strung with huge swaths of leather and fabric between branches to provide shade in shelter. However, if needed, the nets in the center could be moved aside to allow sunlight in and smoke from the steadily burning fires out.

The slate floor was covered in piles of soft blankets, richly woven rugs, and various patterned pillows and other soft materials provided by the dancers. The center was left undecorated to make room for the bonfire that lit the space. Thin, gauzy curtains were attached to the sides of the nest, dancing lazily in the air.

The dancers clustered together in small group, some sharing animated tales, some sipping from goblets of mulled wine, others carefully teaching younger dancers. The raised dais at one end of the nest was empty, but Maka could easily imagine it filled with a plethora of graceful, winding dancers.

There was little reaction from the others inside as Tsubaki led Maka into the dancer's nest - likely she had warned them that their Naga might come. Considering how much attention Maka usually generated wherever she went, she appreciated the disinterest.

Tsubaki began teaching her a few simple steps, and though the movements seemed intimidating at first, Maka quickly adapted to the style. She had spent years training and sparring, and it came as a surprise to discover that dancing was no so different than fighting, in some ways. She already had a kind of grace when she extended her arm or her leg - all she needed to remember was to pair the movements with the rhythm of the steady drum or the gentle lilt of the flute.

However, the Namir-da still eluded her. Tsubaki didn't seem concerned. "You have the talent," she said critically, watching as Maka swayed to the music. "I believe you might master it with time. But that is the critical element: time, and practice."

So Maka didn't feel all that discouraged as midsummer dawned a few days later. Suddenly the courtyards were perfumed with exotic spices, and the air was thrumming with drum beats and hypnotic music. The marketplace flowed to the brim with bodies, all talking and laughing and dancing, until it overwhelmed the senses.

Soul and Maka entered the market together, and almost immediately one of the dancers Maka had practiced with darted forward and offered her a silk scarf in rich crimson and shimmering gold, strung with tiny bells all along the edge. A _melos_ , offered to dancers as a compliment to their skill and a request for a performance. Soul made as though to intercept the motion and decline on Maka's behalf, but she pulled it from his hands and did a dew steps Tsubaki had taught her the other day, her feet light as they skipped across the ground.

She almost laughed out loud at the astonishment on Soul's face. Maka winked at him and performed a few more steps, a lighthearted challenge on her face. Soul met her almost at once, answering her with a few steps of his own. They danced together in their own little circle at the edge of the market, the rest of the world fading until the only things left were the two of them.

Soul was an excellent dancer, though they kept it limited to the steps and patterns that Maka did know. Several requests to see them perform were made of them throughout the day, and sometimes it seemed like they could hardly move five steps before someone else was upon them again, asking for another dance.

Eventually, Maka's energy began to wane with the day. A circular dais had been constructed in the middle of the synkal, and it was here that Soul addressed his people as the sun began to dip below the horizon. Maka, Camille, and Eloise sat at the back of the stage while Soul retold stories and legend of the serpiente, the torches at the edge of the platform lighting him with a gentle orange glow as twilight deepened.

After he had finished, the doors to the synkal opened, allowing the children out into the market where they would stay up late enjoying shows, games, and sweet treats. The adults stayed within the synkal as Camille and her mate prepared to take the stage and dance together in front of the serpiente people for the first time. Everyone looked to them eagerly, anticipating a beautiful show. All except Eloise.

Soul's mother stiffened, and when Maka looked to her, she was staring off stage and into the darkness. Before Maka could ask what was wrong, Eloise seized hold of her arm and yanked her bodily to her feet. Soul heard the commotion and whirled around, eyes wide as he caught sight of his mother.

Everything that happened after that came in a blinding instant.

A tearing pain ripped through Maka's shoulder, so intense she couldn't even cry out. Her vision tunneled and the world spun wildly, the burning torches at the edge of the stage blurring together into long streaks of orange and red. Maka faltered, her feet unsteady underneath her. Dead weight crashed into her side, and Maka felt the fall as though it were in slow motion. He heard screaming, but everything sounded muffled, as though someone had pressed a thick pillow to her face. She vaguely registered warm arms wrapping around her waist, and yet the falling sensation continued.

The last thing she remembered was Soul looking down at her with blind panic in his eyes, and then her vision tunneled, and everything went black.


	9. Chapter Eight

The memories of what came next were scattered, dashed between murky sights and sounds.

Soul, ordering the guards to secure Camille and her mate, to lock the doors. The assassin was inside the synkal.

Soul, his face bone white, leaning over her as he begged her not to leave, to keep her eyes open.

Black*Star, his face wan, examining Maka with trembling hands. Ordering Soul to leave the room while the doctors worked, and when he didn't move, ordering the guards to remove him.

Camille, tears tracking down her face, her hands soft and gentle as they stroked Maka's forehead. "It's alright," she said softly. "You can go to sleep now."

So Maka slept.

* * *

When she woke up, the pain in her shoulder was greatly lessened, and everything felt sharper and more coherent. Bandages wrapped around her chest, the pressure both welcome and restricting.

Black*Star was sitting by her side. He heaved a sigh of relief when he saw her stir. "Thank the skies," he said.

"I seem to keep being poisoned," Maka said wryly, for there was that menacing warmth tingling at the edges of her skin. She immediately regretted speaking as her lungs ached and the fire burned its way across her chest.

"You'll be ookay," Black*Star said. "But it'll take you longer to heal this time. Any higher and the arrow would have hit your lung. Lower would have been just as bad."

"Arrow?"

"Avian-style, but we think it was shot from a serpiente bow. Our arrows never go that deep." He shook his head. "We didn't know if you were going to wake up." His voice shook on the last few words, despite his attempt to steady it.

Maka's head felt like it was filled with cotton, but she was slowly piecing together the last things she remember. One crucial moment stood out. "Eloise - she pulled me out of the way. What happened to her."

Black*Star's grace expression told her the news wasn't good. "The arrow only nicked her, but - she was unconscious when Soul carried the two of you out of the hall, but she hasn't woken yet. The doctors think it's unlikely that she will."

"Soul-"

"-is sleeping right now." At Maka's doubtful look, he confessed, "The guards drugged him."

Now that sounded more accurate. A knock sounded at the door, and Black*Star turned towards the sound. "Come in," he called. "She's awake."

Camille entered, eyes swollen from crying, and yet her head was held high.

"Camille," Black*Star chastised. "You should be resting."

She shook her head. "I can't sleep. I wanted to see how Maka was doing."

Maka tried to smile, but was unsure whether it came across. "I don't go down that easy."

Camille tried to meet the smile with her own. "We told Black*Star to let us know as soon as you were awake, but I'm not surprised to see that he didn't. If you're feeling up to it, I think they have some interesting looking broth for you."

Black*Star nodded. "I'm sure it's very healthy, I'm sure. I can't attest to the taste."

Terrible, was the answer. Maka suffered through a series of thin, watery broths until the palace cooks put their foot down and provided a hearty vegetable broth for dinner. Maka slept fitfully, only waking to eat. Time slipped past in a blur until Maka was unsure of even the hour, never mind the day, when she woke to find Soul sitting at her bedside.

"Soul-"

"How do you feel?"

"Like I was shot with a poisoned arrow." She shifted, trying to find a better position while ignoring the pain that shot through her shoulder.

Soul wasn't in the mood for jokes, however. "Maka."

"I know. I'm doing better, really."

Soul tried to smile, but the expression vanished quickly. "My mother died last night."

"Oh, Soul, I'm so sorry."

His words were hollow as he continued on. "I forgot about her."

"What?"

"When I saw you fall, and I pulled you off her, there was so much blood on you… I didn't even look at her."

"Soul, there was nothing you could have done."

"And yet, I keep going over the moment, over and over in my mind, wondering if there was something I could have done to save her."

"I didn't even see what was going on. I was only standing because your mother grabbed me and pulled me up at the last second."

"I know," Soul said, still tightly controlled. "If you'd both been seated, the arrow would likely have hit your throat, then my mother's side. You'd have both been killed."

"But… I don't understand. No avian would have hurt me, and no serpient would have gone after your mother. They especially wouldn't have coated the arrow with poison that would only affect your family. Why attack us both?"

"We're still trying to figure it out, it's-" Soul broke off as his voice cracked. His hand shook where it rested by Maka's side, and she took it without hesitation.

"Soul…"

His mask finally cracked, and in one great flood everything came rushing out. "I'm terrified, Maka. The guards made the announcement about my mother, and I think my people are still in shock. But I don't know how they'll respond when it wears off." He looked away, bracing himself for what he was going to say next. "I think it was one of my guard who made the shot, or at least organized the attack."

"What?" Maka tried to sit up instinctively. Pain lanced through her shoulder and side.

"Careful." Soul helped her settle back onto the pillows.

Maka waved him off. "Tell me more." She could rest later.

"It would have been impossible for an avian to sneak into the synkal unnoticed. Weapons aren't allowed, so a serpiente bow would have been difficult to sneak in. Only a guard could have managed it."

"Where would they have gotten the poison?"

Soul shrugged. "I don't know. Maybe they stole it."

"But how?" Maka pressed. The moment she said it, the image of Anya glaring at her in the Keep popped into her mind. Anya and Aryn had been the only serpents allowed inside, after all. Either could have smuggled the bow inside. Either would have known the perfect time to make the shot. "And Eloise - a serpent wouldn't have hurt her."

"I know." Soul shook his frustration. "And I know what you're thinking. If it had been generations past, I might have agreed with you - there _was_ bad blood between Anya's family and mine, but my mother dismissed it out of hand and allowed both Anya and Aryn to join the guard, something they were eternally grateful for. I can't imagine any of the guard doing this, but Anya and Aryn even less so." He ran a hand through his hair and blew out a sigh. "But that's besides the point. Black*Star told me they weren't allowed anywhere near the storeroom, and anyway, the poison was much too strong to have come from there anyway. It would have to be mixed specifically for this. That's a skill only someone from the Royal Flight would have had, but they would have used an avian bow, and would have aimed for me, not my mother." He drooped against the back of his chair. "It doesn't make any sense."

Maka was searching for something to say in reply when a knock came at the door and one of Maka's doctors, a timid sparrow, slipped inside. "Milady, would you care for some supper?" she asked.

Soul would not allow her to decline, so Maka gamely swallowed down yet another bowl of broth while Soul sat by her side. She had hoped to continue their conversation when she'd finished, but the shock of what he'd revealed had sapped all her energy. Soul smiled at her as the doctor left the room, taking her hand to squeeze it gently. "Go to sleep, Maka. I'll be here when you wake."

* * *

Maka could not wait to leave her bed.

There was nothing more infuriating to her than hearing snippets and gossip about what was going on in the palace and not being able to do anything about it, especially considering what had happened to her. She was on a regular schedule now, and had even graduated from broths to solid foods, and yet still her doctors insisted she stay where she was. Some part of her recognized the wisdom in resting until she was fully healed, but it was greatly overshadowed by the part of her that itched with restlessness.

The messages her mother kept sending certainly didn't help. Despite Maka's condition, Kami was still reluctant to travel to the serpiente palace, though she insisted she remained at the Keep due to important business there. Instead she sent messages nearly every day, demanding updates on both Maka's progress and the investigation. However, as Soul had pointed out, at least some of the notes could be ignored, unlike her mother herself.

Throughout her recovery, Soul stayed by Maka's side, acting as her emissary whenever she needed something, be it a meal, supplies to write back her mother, or someone to report back on what was going on in the aftermath of the attack. Occasionally, he would also serve as her escort outside, as soon as the doctors cleared Maka for short, supervised trips down the hall, in order to gather her strength. He was more subdued than usual in the wake of his mother's death, but in a way, he was also more open with her than he'd ever been.

Because of this, and the fact that given Maka's condition, she was more likely than ever to get a straight answer, she approached a topic she'd been thinking on for a while. She waited until Soul arrived at her room one morning around a week after the attack, and once he'd settled himself into his usual chair, she struck. "Soul, I've got a question for you, and before you answer, just keep in mind that I'm bedridden."

Soul chuckled. "Alright, ask away."

"Do you remember the conversation we had, where you said you might have been avoiding me?"

Soul's face fell and he began fidgeting uncomfortably in his seat. "I might."

"Can I ask why? You never gave me an answer, and I've been wondering all this time if there was something I did, or something that I'm doing, that caused you to."

Soul was shaking his head before she even finished. "No, please don't ever think that. It wasn't anything you did."

"Then what was it?" Maka knotted her hands in the blankets pooled at her waist.

"I-" To her surprise (and a bit of delight), Soul's cheeks flushed a vivid pink. "I - um…"

"You can tell me anything," Maka said softly, sensing there was more to this than she thought.

"You might regret saying that," Soul said with a bit of wry humor, looking anywhere but at her. "Alright, um… I started avoiding you a little after the alistair ceremony, because I realized something, and I was trying to make life easier on the both of us."

"What did you realize?'

After a few more moments of awkward silence, Soul seemed to make a decision. He straightened up and finally met her gaze. "I realized that I was beginning to care for you in a way I wasn't anticipating. I knew you didn't feel the same for me, and I was worried that you would notice my changing regard. I didn't want to force anything on you, or make you feel like I was owed anything in return. So I kept my distance."

Maka's mouth dropped open in shock. "You - care for me?"

Soul shook his head. "I think it might be a little more than that at this point."

"What - but -" Maka spluttered, trying to put her shattered world view back together. "No, that can't - you were miserable! You told Anya so!"

Soul furrowed his brow in confusion. "What? When did I say that?"

Maka realized what she'd inadvertently revealed and blushed. "I, um, might have overheard you two talking in the halls one day. Anya said you were miserable and you deserved good things, and you said what you wanted didn't matter."

"Because I wanted you!" The words burst from him in one great rush, lingering in the air long after the sound had died. Maka's eyes were the size of dinner plates, and expression Soul was echoing back at her.

"You did? Or, you do?" Maka's words were so quiet she wondered if Soul had even heard them.

Soul closed his eyes and sighed, as though accepting his fate. "Anya got it only half right. Yes, I wasn't happy, but that was because I was starting to, well, develop some unexpected feelings for you. And I knew you didn't reciprocate. I was avoiding you so you wouldn't find out, and I was hoping the distance might dull the feeling a little. Which it did not."

Maka's heart broke a little for him. How awful, how lonely, that must have been, to isolate himself from the one person he had promised to work with, the one he had sworn his life to. "I had no idea," she said.

"That _was_ the idea." He was watching her anxiously, and it occurred to her that he had spilled his entire heart out in front of her, and she hadn't addressed it at all.

She played with the blankets in her lap to buy herself more time to answer. "I didn't come into this thinking we would find anything more than a mutual respect, or a partnership," she began. "I admired you for having the courage to seek out peace, to do anything for your people, but other than that, I thought we were two very different souls." She looked up to meet his gaze head on. "I've realized these past few weeks that I was very wrong. There have been so many times when we're talking and I think, 'yes, here is someone who understands me, who knows my soul, because his is the same.' I don't think I knew what that feeling was. But, listening to you just now, I think I understand now."

It took a moment for Soul to gather himself to reply. "What are you saying?"

"I think -"

The door burst open, revealing one of the Royal Flight. "My lady, Soul," he panted. "Black*Star told me to come get you, quickly."

Maka threw the blankets off her lap and made to stand. Soul took one arm gently and helped her rise, then stayed by her side as they followed the guard to the main hall. Black*Star was standing outside, a shallow cut on his cheek and a grim expression on his face. "We've found the assassins," was all he said. "Kim and Aryn are holding them."

Maka sucked in a breath, but before she could ask anything, Black*Star said to Soul, "One of them is the one who shot Eloise and Maka. Soul, it's Anya."

His face went white, and for the first time in days, Maka had to support Soul as his knees weakened underneath him. "No," he whispered. "No, she wouldn't have hurt my mother." He braced himself on the wall next to them. "Who's the other?"

Black*Star's lip curled in disgust. "Ox."

Maka started in surprise. Ox? She had known his feelings toward the serpiente hadn't exactly been kind, but conspiracy and murder? She couldn't quite imagine it.

"Both have confessed," Black*Star continued. "We can deal with them, if you'd like."

Soul shook his head. "I'd like to speak with them." He turned to Maka, silently asking her opinion.

She nodded. As both Naga and Tuuli Thea, it would only be right for her to face them, even if it was to deliver a sentence.

Black*Star nodded and opened the door to let them in.

Both Anya and Ox's hand were tied behind their back, with Kim holding Ox's hands and Aryn holding Anya's. If Aryn was feeling any kind of strong emotion about being the one detaining his own sister, his expression revealed nothing.

"She wasn't supposed to hurt you," Ox blurted out before anyone could say anything.

"They don't care," Anya said, rolling her eyes.

Ox ignored her and pressed on. "I was only trying to protect you," he pleaded to Maka. "You have to understand, I've been studying their kind for years; they're incapable of peace. I knew it was only a matter of time before this alliance ended in bloodshed. I was only trying to get you out of this before you were caught in the crossfire."

Anya laughed, a sharp, cruel thing. "You're guilty of treason; they don't care why you did it."

"I care," Soul said, his tone colder than anything Maka had heard from him before. "I care why you killed my mother and tried to kill my mate."

"The poison wasn't supposed to be that strong," Anya snapped, glaring daggers at Ox. "He gave me an avian bolt so they would be blamed. The poison was supposed to be weak, just enough so it looked like someone was trying to harm Eloise without actually doing so."

"And you weren't supposed to hit my Tuuli Thea!" Ox shot back. "You almost _killed_ her-"

" _I was trying to!_ " Anya shouted. "My only mistake was missing." She glared at Maka. "Who do you think you are, waltzing in here like you own the place, stealing a spot that's rightfully _mine_. And even worse, every day I have to see my Diente honoring his vows, even if it makes him miserable, and you don't even _care_ -"

"Would someone shut her up already?" Ox snapped.

Anya rounded on him. "And you, you stupid bird, I should have skinned you when I found you back in the palace. How stupid do you have to be, to cut open your own Naga like that?"

"No, the only thing stupid was trusting you!"

"Enough!" Soul's shout cut through their argument. "Ox, you were the one who hurt Maka?"

Ox nodded. "Trying to kill you."

"And Anya, you lied to me about Ox."

"Yes."

"You tried to kill my mate in the synkal, and did kill my mother."

"Yes, but-"

"That's all I needed to hear."

"I know it's a death sentence," Anya said quickly, before Soul could say anything else. "And I'm willing to accept that for your mother's death. I only wanted to make sure he" - she nodded to Ox - "was also caught, before he could try to kill you again."

Soul didn't spare her another look as he turned to Black*Star and said, "Can you and your guard make sure these two remain secure until something can be done with them?"

Black*Star nodded.

"Good." Soul closed his eyes and took in a deep breath. "Aryn, you can be dismissed. You don't need to be involved in this."

Aryn hesitated a brief moment, then straightened. He shook his head sharply. "Thank you, sir, but I'll stay. If I can't perform my duties now, I have no place in your guard."

Soul nodded, and Black*Star, Kim, and Aryn escorted the traitors out.

The moment the door closed behind them, Soul sagged against a wall. "How did I miss this?" he asked the air. "I should have known."

Maka slid down next to him carefully, on hand on her still tender side. "Please don't blame yourself for this," she said softly. "I didn't see it in Ox, either."

Soul shook his head, but didn't reply.

An impulsive thought crept over Maka, but instead of dismissing it out of hand, she decided to go with it. She leaned over and pressed her lips to his cheek gently, letting them linger there for a moment before dropping her head onto his shoulder.

They sat like that for a long while, listening to each other breathe.

It was over.

* * *

Later, after Maka had been officially released from bed rest and they'd returned to the Keep, Soul met her once again on the top balcony. At the sound of his approach, Maka turned to face him, leaning against the stone railing as she looked up at him.

"You're looking better," he said, scanning her up and down.

"Feeling better," she replied. They stood like that for a long moment, simply looking at each other. Maka sometimes thought about how she might have reacted all those months ago, if someone had told her she would be standing here, looking into Soul Evan's eyes without a drop of fear, feeling her heart pound underneath her ribs. She chuckled a little at the idea.

"What's so funny?" he asked, smiling.

Maka shook her head. "I'm just thinking how strange life is."

"That it is."

Looking up at him, Maka felt a little piece click into place. She'd known a little about how she felt, had danced around it for a while, but standing here with him - she couldn't deny this. A slow, wide smile crept across her face.

"What are you thinking about?" Soul asked softly, lifting a hand to brush away an errant piece of hair from her face.

"We never finished our conversation before. About why you were avoiding me."

Soul pulled back, wary now. "No, I guess we didn't."

"I wanted to say something else."

"Go ahead."

But instead of speaking, Maka merely raised herself onto her toes and pressed her lips to his.

He was still for a moment, and then he was pressing back, wrapping one hand around her waist as he pulled her tight. A delicious warmth settled in Maka's chest, then spread to her every limb until she thought she might float away with the breeze.

When they separated, Soul looked down at her with mild amusement. "Technically, that wasn't speaking."

"I didn't hear you complaining," she said cheekily.

Soul rolled his eyes. "You just always have to have the last word, don't you?"

"I don't see-" He abruptly cut her off with another kiss, and another, and another. The wind teased the ends of Maka's hair and the hem of Soul's shirt, running playful hands across them as it passed by. All her emotions bubbled up insider her until Maka thought she might burst from them all, but one thought reigned above all others:

Finally, here was peace.


End file.
